Take a Chance on Me
by serenityrayne417
Summary: "All of my assignments are difficult, and this girl is no exception. I realize I didn't even know my new parolee's name. I turned back to her mug shot, that haunting photo, and read the name on the slate she held up. Callie Jacob." AU where Stef is Callie's parole officer. Explores the relationship between them. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Stef**

The smile on my face could not be helped as I read the latest email from my ex-parolee, detailing the current happenings of his life. He's met a girl, receiving a job promotion…success stories like his give me the drive I need to do what I do.

When I started out at the Academy, I always figured I would be a uniform. Maybe even a detective. I thought of parole officers as somewhat akin to babysitters: make sure their charge is behaving and doing what they're supposed to do. I never thought I would end up as a P.O. but here I am. Every person I am assigned is unique and interesting. They all have their own story. I like learning that story, no matter how straightforward or twisted it may be. When you have background, it's easier to reach the person. Sometimes, it's easy to get their story. Most of the time, it's difficult, but hearing the thoughts and motivation behind my assignments' actions make it that much easier to get them back on the right track.

My record precedes me: I have had the most successful parolee turn-arounds than anyone other person in the department. It is something I take pride in as well as something that pushes me to do more and to do better.

"Foster."

I look up as my boss gestures for me to come into her office. Pushing back from my desk, I stand up and walk into the office, closing the door behind me. Captain Roberts motions for me to have a seat and I do. She takes a seat at her desk and puts a hand on top of a thick file. By the looks of it, this person has had quite the run in with the law.

"Yes, Captain?"

She pushes the folder towards me, but keeps a hand on it, "I have a new assignment for you."

"Okay." I reach for the folder but she makes no move to release it to me, "Captain?"

She releases a breath, brown eyes closing momentarily before opening again to meet mine, "This is a…_different_ assignment."

My eyebrow goes up of its own accord, "Different?"

Captain Roberts finally releases the file, allowing me to take it. I'm surprised by the weight of it in my hands. I open it and look at the mug shot clipped to the top left corner. It's a girl, maybe fifteen years old. Her eyes are black, unforgiving. They reminded me of a nocturnal creature, nowhere to be seen when it's light out but alert and observant at night. There is an unhealthy pallor to her skin and the lighting in the photograph doesn't make it look any better. Her hair is a mess of brown curls and I can tell just from looking at it that it had not been brushed. This girl looked like death.

"She's being released today," Captain Robert's voice jolts me from my scrutiny of the picture, "From Chula Vista Juvenile Detention Facility."

I shake my head a bit, "I…_she's_ my new assignment?" I ask in disbelief. I'm used to robbers, drug dealers…but a teenager?

"I know this isn't what you typically have, but I feel you're my best bet for this particular situation."

I begin to flip through the file and suddenly it dawns on me why Roberts assigned me this girl. She's in foster care, just like my babies were. I skim through each report quickly, and can't help but notice that the reason for her removal from each home has to do with something _she_ did.

"Christ…" I mutter as I read through the complaints from her various foster parents. _Disrespectful. Violent. Thief. Liar._ I look up at my boss, "What did she do to land in juvie?"

"Took a baseball bat to her foster father's car." Roberts replied bluntly.

My eyebrows nearly shot off my forehead, "Why? Why did she do that?"

Robins reaches a hand out for the file and I gave it to her. She flips towards the back and reads it for a moment before nodding to herself, "Yes. It says in this report that she was angry about not getting something and took it out on her foster father's car. Angry she didn't get something? I don't know this girl, but something about this report sounds off.

"This girl sounds like a handful," I murmured to myself.

"She is," the Captain agreed, "But she just needs to be guided in the right direction." Roberts handed me the file once again and I took it, tucking it securely under my arm as I stood up. I was almost at the door when her voice stopped me.

"Stef? I wouldn't give you an assignment if I didn't think you could handle it." I nodded my head in acknowledgment before exiting the office. I crossed the bustling bullpen to get to my desk and plopped into my chair. I put the thick file in front of me: I had a lot to learn about this girl before I met her. All of my assignments are difficult, and this girl is no exception. I realized I didn't even know my new parolee's name. I turned back to her mug shot, that haunting photo, and read the name on the slate she held up.

Callie Jacob.

**New story! Whoo hoo! Do you guys like the idea? I really wanted to do a piece where I focused on Callie and Stef's relationship because I find it amazing. The next chapter will be Callie's POV.**

**I will be posting an epilogue for "A Death in the Family" later on this week.**

**What do you guys think of this story so far? Is it good? Please review!**

**-Liv**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Italics mean it's a flashback.**

**Callie**

No eye contact.

Only fight when you need to.

And above all else, don't let them see you cry.

I have survived eight foster homes living by these rules and juvie is no different. I couldn't tell you what's worse. At least here, you're guaranteed three meals a day and a shower. Cold showers albeit, with no privacy whatsoever, but it's better than nothing.

I should be happy: I'm being released today. Released to the wild. I wonder where I'll end up this time, maybe a group home. Horror stories of them circulate among us foster kids. I've managed to stay out of them for all these years but this juvie stint might just land me in one. I turn over in my cot. Springs creak as I pull the thin, scratchy blanket tighter around myself, willing it to rid me of the permanent chill that has settled in my bones. I stare at the cinderblock wall next to my bed. The wake-up call is going to sound soon, and breakfast will follow afterwards. Everything runs like clockwork here.

6:00, wake up. Make your bed, shower.

7:00, breakfast.

8:00, school.

12:00, lunch.

1:00, back to school.

Free time is from 2:00 to 7:00, then we have dinner, and at 9:00 its lights out.

I live by this schedule; I _have _lived by this schedule, for the past three months. It's been programmed into me. If I want, I can go through my entire day without giving a conscious thought to what I am doing at that particular moment. Most of the time, this is what I do. I can't allow myself to think too much, because as soon as I do, my thoughts drift to Baby.

"_What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" _

_I'm on my feet as soon as I hear Jim's angry shout. There's only one other person in the house he could be yelling at like that. I dash through the hallway and follow the yelling to his bedroom. Jude is backed up into a corner. He's wearing a strappy pink dress and it doesn't take long for me to figure out what is going on. Jude's face is pale and his eyes are wide with absolute fear. Jim is towering over him, belt in hand._

"_I'm not having some fucking fag live in my house!" Jim roared, and before I could say or do anything, his hand came down and the belt struck Jude right across the face. _

"_STOP!" I grabbed Jim's arm and tried to pull him away from my brother. Jude was on the floor by now, hands pressed to his cheek as he tried to make himself small in the corner. Jim rips his arm out of my grasp with ease and shoves me hard. My head hits the back of the wall and I see stars for a moment. When I finally get my bearings together, I see that Jim is repeatedly hitting Jude with the belt, going for any skin he saw._

"_Fucking faggot!" he yells, not letting up with the blows._

"_Stop!" I yell, crawling towards them, "Don't touch him! Leave him alone!" Jim doesn't even let up when he kicks me away. The wind goes out of me and I gasp for a second as tears spring to my eyes. I struggle to my feet and stumble into the hall. I glance wearily at the phone and consider calling the police but there is no use. We were in a poor area and they wouldn't listen to some punk teenager. My eyes frantically search the area, hands coming up to grip my hair as I begin to panic. I spot the baseball bat Jim keeps by the door in case of robbers. I could try to take him out, but what if I failed and it just winds up that I gave him something else to beat my brother with?_

_Still, I wrap a hand around the end of the bat, clutching it tightly. I glance around some more and my gaze goes to the window. Jim's Trans Am is parked in the driveway; his precious car. I look back down at the bat and suddenly I know what to do. I run outside and only hesitate for a second before raising the bat high above my head and bringing it down with a satisfying WHACK on the windshield. It shatters like ice and the alarm begins to blare. I don't let up. I hammer the bat into the headlights and take off one of the side mirrors. _

"_YOU FUCKING BITCH!" I hear, "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" I look up to see Jim coming towards me, pointing his finger threateningly at me, belt still in his hand. He's almost near me when I hear the saving sound of police sirens. I could almost smile. Jim has no choice but to stay where he is. The squad car comes to a screeching halt in the middle of the street and two men in uniform hop out._

"_What's going on here?" One of them asks, stepping in between me and Jim._

"_She's psychotic!" Jim exclaims, gesturing wildly at me, "She's freaking out over __nothing__!" I lunge at him and the cop has to hold me back. Jude is _not_ nothing._

"_He's lying!" I yell as I attempted to free myself from the officer's grip, "He was hitting my brother!"_

"_The kid fell!"_

"_You're full of shit!"_

"_Hey!" The cop interrupts, "First of all, you need to give me that bat." I sigh and hand it over. I watch as he gives it to his partner before he turns back to me, reaching for something from his belt._

"_I'm going to need you to turn around, young lady."_

_I give him a confused look, "What?"_

"_You're under arrest."_

The system is such bullshit.

An alarm blares, signaling that it's time for us to get up. I take a moment to myself, to pull myself together, before pushing the blankets off myself and sitting up. I think for a minute that this is the last time I'll be going through this routine. I have no reason to be sentimental over this. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

* * *

We shuffle down the corridor past the now empty cells on our way to breakfast. There's one guard at the front of the line and one at the back. The scared girls, usually the new ones, will try to get right next to a guard so that they're protected; so that they're safe. They're naïve to think this way. I'm in the middle, mixed in with the others. I notice a girl towards the front turn back and give me the once over.

Daphne. Her hair is pulled back into cornrows and she has a face that can only be described as a 'Permanent Bitch Face'. She turns back again to look at me. I keep my eyes trained to the back of the girl in front of me.

_No eye contact._

She begins to fall back in line, urging girls to go ahead of her. I start to get nervous, but she can't know that. She'll feed on it. In a few seconds, she's right in front of me. I wonder if she can hear my heart pounding against my rib cage, or smell the sweat that prickles my skin.

"You're gettin' out today, huh?"

I remain silent.

"That's what we heard."

Again, I say nothing. Daphne turns around and gets into my face, "Why you so quiet, huh? You was all mouth the other day when I cut in front of you at the showers. Lost my yard privileges 'cause of you." There's another girl behind me, breathing down my neck. Clearly, she's with Daphne. For every 'friend' you make here, there's one less person to beat you up. I don't receive any warning before Daphne's fist connects with my face. Not a second later, the lackey throws her own punch right into my stomach. The air rushes out of my lungs and I am forced to the ground as the blows reign on me. I consider fighting back, but that would not work out in my favor.

_Only fight when you need to._

I could get into trouble. That would delay my release and from getting my brother. Instead of fighting back, I lay there. Pathetic. My ribs are on fire and my face stings. I force back any tears in my eyes because then Daphne can't get the satisfaction.

_Don't let them see you cry._

Not soon enough, the beating stops when a guard finally pulls the girls off of me. Took long enough. He hauls them away and another guard comes over, a woman. She picks me up by my arm and I choke back a gasp of pain.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." I mumble as I touch a finger to my lip. Not surprisingly, I see blood when I pull my finger away. The guard sighs, exasperated, as if my injuries are inconveniencing her. She gives me a little shove down the hall.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

I sit inside the infirmary, a paper towel pressed to my lip to stem the bleeding. I can hear the warden talking to the guard outside.

"What the hell happened?"

"Two girls got her on the way to breakfast. They've been taken to C-Block."

A sigh, "Well can we get her cleaned up before her parole officer gets here? We don't need to get any shit from the higher ups." My ears perk up at this: I knew I was getting a P.O. today, but I hadn't heard anything of them until this moment. I pull back the paper towel. A good section of it is soaked red with blood.

"How are you doing?" The nurse asks, an older woman. She's kind, probably one of the kindest people here. She hands me a Q-tip with some Vaseline on it, "Put this on. If your lips get chapped the cut will hurt a lot more." I take the Q-tip and slowly stand up. My ribs protest every movement I make, no matter how slight. By some miracle I make it across the room to the mirror so that I can see what I'm doing. I get a good look at myself. A bruise is beginning to form on the side of my face, creeping down towards my chin. I move my mouth a bit and instantly regret it as the pain shoots through me. Carefully, I begin to dab the Vaseline on my lip. With the mirror, I can see the backs of the guard and warden outside.

"I'm going to have to take her over to meet her P.O. right after she's done or she'll be late," the guard says gruffly, shifting his weight, "What's this guy's name again?"

There's a rustling sound, like papers being shuffled, "Uh…Foster. Officer Foster."

**I'm so happy you guys like this! Thank you for the reviews, I really appreciate them all :) Callie and Stef will meet next chapter and Stef will receive some background on Callie. I really like writing this so far (it's fun!), even though I keep forgetting to write in the present tense and not the past. **

**Any requests/things you would like to see? Let me know.**

**Please review!**

**-Liv**


	3. Chapter 3

**Stef**

I'm waiting in the lobby of the San Francisco Child Protective Services building. I have to meet with Callie's social worker before I go pick her up. I read her entire file. Twice. What this girl has been through is too much for one person to bear. All of these reports jam packed into one folder and yet I feel as though there's something missing; something that has gone undetected.

"Stef?" I look up and am surprised to see a familiar face.

"Bill?" Bill used to be the twin's social worker. We had to work with him for a number of years when it came to fostering and eventually adopting Jesus and Mariana.

"What brings you here?" he asks with a tone of curiosity as I stand up to greet him.

"New assignment," I answer, "Sixteen year old girl…"

Bill lets out a sigh, "You wouldn't by any chance be talking about Callie Jacob, would you?"

I furrow my eyebrows, "Yes, actually. She's one of yours?"

Bill gestures for me to follow him to his office, "Her and her brother."

"Brother?" I repeat as I sink into a chair. He shuts the door behind me before walking over to his desk and taking a seat. He turns to his computer and clicks on a few things.

"Callie Jacob, sixteen years old," He begins, turning his monitor so that I can see the screen, "She and her brother Jude entered the system seven years ago when they were nine and six respectively. They're parents got into a car accident―their father was driving drunk. Their mother died on impact but the father survived, got sent to jail. They've been in foster care ever since."

I nod, taking in the information, "When I was reading Callie's file, I noticed she was removed from a lot of homes."

Bill sighs and leans back in his chair. Clearly, this is a subject that has been addressed many times before, "Callie has a pattern…an M.O. if you will. She and her brother are placed in a home, she does something, and they get moved. Every time."

"What does she do exactly?" I ask, leaning forward in my chair, "The reports are pretty vague."

"What does she _not_ do," Bill mutters to himself as he scrolls down on his computer, "Let's see…she's been physically violent with her foster parents, she's stolen from them, she's run away...the list goes on and on."

I shake my head, "But why? There has to be a reason behind her actions." I find it hard to believe this girl would just act out without a particular goal in mind. You are violent when you want to protect yourself. You steal when you need something. You run away when the place you're in is no longer ideal or safe. So what happened in each and every foster home to make this girl resort to these actions?

Bill chuckled bitterly to himself, "You're going to learn something today, Stef. There's never a reason with Callie."

I look at him for a moment before shifting my gaze to the computer screen, "And her brother…Jude is it? Where is he?"

"In San Ysidro, with the foster father whose car Callie destroyed." Bill answers, "He's fine. Asks about his sister a lot."

"Will they be placed together?"

Bill makes a face and shifts in his seat, "Not for the time being. I've found Callie a foster home not too far from the facility she's at now. She's not going to be happy about it, but it's the best I can do." It doesn't sound like it is, but I don't comment. He folds his hands on the desk, "Look, Callie is as tough as they come. She's not going to make it easy for you. She's an angry kid and she'll fight you on most things."

I stand up and shrug a little, "Nothing I can't handle."

"Stef," Bill stops me in a cautious tone, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

I nod and walk out of the office.

* * *

I'm not sure what I was expecting when I saw Callie, but standing here at this two-way window, I'm a bit surprised.

She looks awful.

Her skin is nearly translucent under the harsh fluorescent lights. Her hair hangs limp and dull around her face. There's a red bruise that spans across her left cheek. A cut runs down the side of her lip that has begun to scab over. Some dry blood surrounds it.

She looks nervous.

Her eyes dart around the conference room as if expecting the walls to collapse in at any moment. Her fingers drum erratically on the table, pausing only so that she can occasionally rub her nose.

"What happened to her face?" I ask the warden as I observe this girl, this _child_, from the window.

The warden shrugs, "Some of the girls get jealous when one of them gets released. It happens." It happens? I take a deep breath before turning the knob to the conference room and entering. Callie immediately reacts to my presence. In a split-second, she goes from nervous to confident; stoic. She sits up straight and rests her hands flat on the table. Her eyes bore into mine, her gaze unwavering.

I smile at her: the need to show I'm not a threat is overwhelming. I stop near the table, "Hi, Callie. I'm Officer Foster but you can call me Stef. Is it okay if I sit?"

She shoots me an incredulous look, "Why are you asking _me_?" I don't move and after a moment she gives a small nod, giving me the okay to sit. I do, scooting my chair in and pulling out some paperwork and a pen.

"I'm your new parole officer," I explain to her, trying not to falter under her impenetrable gaze, "Any questions?"

"I need to talk to my brother," she tells me bluntly. I could laugh―she's trying so hard to come off as this tough as nails girl but I see right through her little charade.

"Jude?"

Callie's façade slips for a moment and she leans forward in her seat, "Have you talked to him? Is he okay?"

The hopeful look on her face makes me wish I had something substantial to tell her, "No, I didn't talk to him, but I talked to Bill and he assured me your brother is fine."

The wall goes back up as Callie rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, "Oh, well if _Bill_ says he's okay…" The sarcasm in her voice is deliberate and unapologetic. I see what Bill means when I say she's not going to make it easy.

"So," I say, taking the cap off of my pen, "Bill has found a foster home for you not too far from here―"

"Makes it easier to send me back―"

"And we need to get you enrolled in school," I continue, not deterred by her comment. I look up at her, "Are you in any pain?"

She wasn't expecting this question because a flicker of surprise crosses her features, "I'm fine. When are we leaving?"

"Soon." I answer, folding my arms on the table and tilting my head up a bit, "We need to go over the terms of your parole. You getting sent back here is contingent on your behavior. Under no circumstances are you to break the law in any way. Assault, drinking, stealing―none of that. You are to stay within state lines. You are expected to attend school as well as weekly group therapy. It's really up to you whether or not you are put back in juvie. Do you understand?"

Callie's eyes are downcast, staring at her nails. I lean forward, "Hey. Look at me." Her eyes slowly rise up, finally meeting mine. I'm taken aback by the coldness of them; the emptiness.

"I asked, do you understand?"

She gives me a wry smile, "Understood, Officer Foster."

I sigh, "Callie, this isn't a joke."

"Clearly."

"I'm not plotting against you," I continue, desperately needing her to understand I'm fighting _for_ her, not against her, "We're on the same team here."

She dismisses my statement with the shrug of a shoulder. She moves her head to the side, eyes fixed on an invisible spot on the wall. Her foot taps against the floor to its own beat. I wait for some time before pushing back from the table and standing up.

"Let's go."

**Happy Memorial Day Weekend!**

**I've written up to chapter nine in this story. Callie's first interaction with Mariana is…interesting to say the least ;) I really like writing this story. I'm trying not to rush anything because it's about the character's feelings and how they change over time. Jude will be coming into the story probably around chapter eleven. **

**SPOILER ALERT FOR NEXT CHAPTER/CHAPTER AFTER THAT: Callie will be placed in a foster home, but not for very long at all…What's going to happen, you ask? You'll just have to read and find out!**

**Thank you for all the reviews/follows/favorites. I appreciate them very much!**

**Please review! I like to know how I'm doing/what you guys want to see. I try to incorporate what people want to see as much as I can and sometimes you guys have such good ideas that I HAVE to use them.**

**Until next time,**

**-Liv**


	4. Chapter 4

**Callie**

Stef is nothing what I had in mind when I imagined my parole officer. I had conjured up an image in my head of a buff man who yelled all the time and didn't take any shit. That's not what Stef is like. Her eyes are bright blue and kind, but that doesn't mean anything. She could just be pretending. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a bun, out of her face, but she doesn't look very strict.

What is with all the bullshit? _Are you in pain? Do you have any questions?_ She probably needs to cover all of her bases, for the sake of her own job. That's the case with most of these people.

I'm following Stef to her car at this point. When I was released, the facility gave me back the clothes I had been wearing the day I was taken in. Nothing fancy, just a flannel shirt and some jeans, and they smell a bit off but it's better than the standard issue prison uniform I was forced to wear. My eyes are squinted in an attempt to block the sunlight and I'm shocked by how bright it is out here compared to Chula Vista. We stop in front of a sedan and Stef unlocks the doors.

"Get in."

I do. She follows suit and tosses the papers she had been carrying into the back. She turns to face me, "You hungry?"

"No." I lie. I haven't eaten since dinner last night but I'm not about to admit that to her.

Stef starts the car, "Well I'm starving. Is it okay if we make a pit stop?"

I roll my eyes and turn to face the window, "Whatever."

"Put your seatbelt on, please." I pretend like I don't hear her. "Callie." I let out a huff and throw the stupid seatbelt on.

"It's on. Happy?"

She flashes me a grin of dazzling white teeth, "Very."

* * *

We end up at some diner down the road. I wait in the booth while Stef goes to the bathroom. I'm surprised she left me alone. For all she knows, I could take off. I won't, but I could. It's not very crowded here. Then again, it _is_ late morning on a school day. I pick up the salt shaker and turn it in my hand. Are those grains of rice in there?

"It's so the salt doesn't clump together."

I jump in my seat and the shaker falls to the table with a dull 'THUNK'. I look up to see Stef sliding into her seat opposite me. She smiles at me, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"S'ok." I right the salt shaker and put it back in its place. Even though I'm looking at the table, I know that Stef is staring at me. I finally snap my head up and pin her with what I hope is an intimidating stare. All I do is make her smile, that _stupid_ smile.

"I have a daughter close to your age. Just a year younger." She tilts her head a bit, "You kind of remind me of her."

I pick at my finger nails, "How?"

"She's stubborn, too." I glare at her and only succeed in making her laugh; this carefree laugh as if there are no worries in the world and everything is just sunshine and fucking rainbows. A waitress comes to our table and puts down a few plates of food. I raise an eyebrow at the amount: There are two plates of pancakes, a plate of bacon, two plates of eggs and four pieces of toast. The waitress also puts down a small coffee pot before walking away.

"Dig in." Stef says, gesturing at the food before reaching for a piece of bacon and taking a bite.

"I said I wasn't hungry." I remind her as I lean back in my seat and cross my arms.

Stef chews for a bit and swallows, "You didn't have breakfast this morning. The warden told me. You have to be hungry."

"I'm not."

She takes a deep breath and her eyes flutter close for a moment, "Are we really going to do this? Please eat something, Callie. You can't go without eating."

I sigh and reach for the coffee pot. I pour myself a mug and begin to sip it. I almost sigh in pleasure―it's been a while since I've had this caffeinated beverage. I drink the entire cup within a few minutes and pour myself a second mug. Stef's hand comes across the table to take the pot from me as soon as I'm done pouring.

"That's enough coffee." I let out a sigh and clutch my cup close to me in case she decides to take that away, too.

"So tell me about Jude."

I almost choke on the coffee I'm trying to swallow. I clear my throat and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, "What about him?"

Stef stabs her fork into some eggs, "Like…how old is he?"

"Younger than me."

"Okay. What's he like?"

I narrow my eyes, "What does it matter to you?"

"He's obviously important to you," Stef replied as she brought her fork to her mouth.

I sigh and push my coffee cup aside, "Look, you don't have to pretend."

Stef reels back a little, as if I'd hit her or something, "Excuse me?"

"You guys are all the same." I comment, looking across the diner at a mother and her toddler son. He's maybe three years old with a shock of blonde curls and curious blue eyes. He's mashing his hands into his food, fisting it and bringing it to his mouth, and his mother is just laughing as if there isn't a funnier sight in the world.

"How are we all the same, Callie?" Stef asks in a quiet voice. She's looking at me, her blue eyes searching my face as if the answer is written on my forehead. I shake my head and scoot down the booth bench.

"I need to use the bathroom."

She nods and I stand up and head for the restrooms, but not before I catch the perplexed look on her face.

* * *

Stef cruises the car as we look for the right house. The neighborhood we're in isn't the worst I've lived in, but it's definitely not at the top of my list either. Stef keeps making faces at every house we pass and I wonder what she's thinking about. We finally come to a rolling stop in front of a modest house. It's on the small side and surrounded by a metal fence. Stef puts the car in park and just sits there for a moment, looking the house up and down. We must be sitting for two minutes in silence before I clear my throat.

"Maybe we should go?"

She looks at me for a moment and nods a little, pressing the button to release her seatbelt and stepping out of the car. I do the same. Stef grabs my bag, my small duffle bag, from the trunk and slings it over her shoulder. I let her lead the way to the front door because I don't know what I'm in for. There's a sign on the front door.

**DOORBELL BROKEN. PLEASE KNOCK.**

Stef swings open the screen door and pounds on the wood of the front door. We are waiting about ten seconds when the door suddenly swings open. I'm taken off guard and stumble back a bit into Stef, but I quickly fix myself.

There's a woman peering at us. Her pale skin accentuates the slap shot make-up job on her wrinkled face. The only way I could describe it is gaudy: blue eye shadow, red lipstick…Her hair is peroxide bottle blonde with brunette roots poking out. A cigarette hangs loosely from her lips, ashes occasionally falling to the floor.

"What are you selling?" she asks in a raspy voice, turning away for a moment to cough into her hand.

Stef narrows her eyes a bit, "My name is Officer Stefanie Foster from the San Francisco police department. I'm dropping off Callie…you _are_ aware you're receiving a new foster child today, yes?"

The woman nods and waves her hand, "Yeah, yeah." She turns to me with a saccharine smile full of yellow teeth and I get a whiff of tobacco, "Hi, there Ally. You can call me Marcy. Do you want to come inside?"

"Callie."

Marcy raises an eyebrow, "Huh?"

"My name is Callie." She nods, but I don't think she truly cares.

I think Stef senses this, because she asks, "How long have you been a foster parent?"

"Six days," Marcy answers and takes a drag from her cigarette. Suddenly she pauses, thinks to herself a bit, and lets out a puff of laughter, "Six _months_. Ha! I swear my mind is just going these days. Menopause or something…"

Stef gives her a weird look. So do I. This woman sounds as if she is completely off her rocker. I don't know what I was expecting; my placements have always been less than ideal.

"Well," Stef says, clearing her throat, "Callie has some pain medication with her; please make sure she gets it."

Marcy nods, some more ashes fall from her cigarette, "Allergy meds. Got it."

Stef tilts her head and raises an eyebrow, "_Pain_ medication."

Marcy waves her hand and turns around again to hack into her hand. I take my bag from Stef and nod towards her car.

"You can go now."

She looks reluctant to leave, "Alright…" she reaches into her pocket and hands me a card with her name and number on it, "We'll be in touch so I can get you set up in school. If you need anything, _anything_, please call me."

I wave my hand at her, and turn towards the house. I'm stopped when I feel Stef's hand on my shoulder and I flinch away without a second thought. She, however, stands her ground and looks me dead in the eye, "Callie."

I roll my eyes, "Okay, okay! I'll call."

She smiles, satisfied, before walking back to her car. I watch her start the car and disappear for a moment before turning back to Marcy.

"So, where do I sleep?"

**I have a research paper due Thursday night and I've written two paragraphs. Yippee. Thank you for the great response! You guys are amazing :) I'm so excited for Season 2. I'm patiently waiting…**

**Someone asked why I don't update more often if I have the chapters written out in advance. To answer, it's because I like to proofread (my spelling is awful) and I like to be able to change things if I want. That happened with the last part of this chapter.**

**Leave a review below!**

**-Liv**


	5. Chapter 5

**Stef **

"_Hello?"_

"Bill," I say into the phone, "What the hell kind of foster home was that?" I'm back at my desk after dropping Callie off, barely fighting the urge to drive back there and take her with me. This Marcy woman was probably one of the last people on earth that I would ever leave a child with, even if they are as old and independent as Callie.

"_It was the best I could do―"_

"The best you could do?" I repeat incredulously, sitting up straight in my seat, "This woman couldn't remember a single thing I told her, including Callie's name. There has to be something else for her."

I hear Bill sigh, _"The thing with Callie is, she doesn't do well with male authority figures. This was the only home I could find on such short notice where there were no men."_

I rest my head on my hand, "I still don't like it. Is there any way I can get Callie in contact with her brother?"

"_Not at the moment. Callie needs to worry about herself before she starts worrying about Jude."_

I don't like his answer, but that's the way it works with stuff like this, "Alright. Let me know when Callie can see Jude as soon as you can."

"_I will."_

"Thanks, Bill." I hang up the phone and run my hand over my face. I can't shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach that I've left Callie to the wolves. She seemed so nonchalant that I had to leave her in that rat hole of a place. Could it have better than her previous homes? I shudder at the thought. I reach into the bottom drawer of my desk and take out the manila folder that contains the forms I need to get Callie registered for school. I take out the papers I need as well as a pen.

Others may have failed this girl, but I sure as hell am not about to.

* * *

I walk into the kitchen through the back door and I'm immediately hit with the familiar, comforting scent of Lena's cooking. I smile to myself as I close the door behind me and walk up behind her where she stands at the stove. I put by hands on her hips and kiss her cheek.

"Hi, Love."

She turns around and flashes me a smile that still makes me weak in the knees, "Hey, Honey. How was work?"

I chuckle a bit and sit on a stool, "Interesting. I got a new assignment."

Lena turns back to the stove to stir the pasta that is cooking, "Oh? What's this guy in for?"

"This _guy_," I answer as I rest my hands on the table, "Is a sixteen year old girl in foster care that was in juvie for destroying her foster father's car."

She turns back around at this, eyebrows raised, and I know I've caught her attention, "Wow, you've never had someone like that before. What's she like?"

"Tough. I think her attitude is worse than Mariana's." Lena snorts at this, "Her name is Callie. I dropped her off at her new foster home this afternoon." That awful house with that questionable woman, "I just wish there was something more I could do for her," I finished wistfully.

I don't understand how this girl could have gotten under my skin like this. Most likely because she's just a child; same age as Brandon. I haven't known her for long but I know she deserves better than the woman I left her with. Lena walks up behind me and releases my hair from its confining bun. I allow my eyes to slip close as she runs her long fingers through my hair and massages my scalp.

"You'll get her on the right track," she says as she continues her relaxing ministrations, "Your heart is too big to let her slip through the cracks." I hum in response and open my eyes. I pull Lena down so that I can press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"I really hope so, Love."

* * *

"…and then Lexi partnered up with Kelsey and I had to work with Claire! Ugh!"

I smile at the normalcy of this. Mariana is giving me a play-by-play of how her day went. Her theatrics often convince me that she was born to be an actress. If I could take her as she is now and introduce her to an eight-year-old Mariana, I wonder what the latter would say? She used to be so quiet and distrustful. I told Callie that she reminded me of her but the stubborn part wasn't what I was talking about. Not really. It was the way she acted like Mariana when she first came to us. Hopefully, like Mariana, I can break down Callie's walls.

"Sorry about your day, Love," I say as sympathetically I can although Jesus rolling his eyes is making it hard for me to keep a straight face, "How's your piece coming along, B?"

"It's not right yet," he answers and I can see the stress in his face. He always works himself up over auditions and recitals and he always does amazing. Part of his creative process, I suppose.

"Don't stress yourself out," Lena says as she reaches for the water pitcher, "You'll knock it out of the ball park like you always do."

"How'd you do on that math test, Jesus?" I ask. His averted gaze answers that question for me.

He manages to look up at me and flash his charming smile, "Mom, you look so pretty today―"

"I'll need to see that test after dinner."

He groans and shovels some food into his mouth. Everything about this is so comfortable that it immediately calms me. I'm thankful everyday that I found Lena and created this beautiful family with her: all of us with different stories and yet we all fit together so perfectly. I got lucky with this life and then there are people who aren't so lucky. People like Callie.

God, I'm obsessed.

* * *

I finish tossing the last of the decorative bed pillows to the floor and crawl into bed as I wait for Lena to get back from the bathroom. I pull the covers over me and curl in towards the middle of the bed. I hear the light click off in the bathroom and Lena walks into the bedroom, face washed free of make-up. She crawls in next to me, turning off the bedside lamp before she does. She wraps her arms around me and presses her face into my neck. I can smell the toothpaste on her breath. I press my nose into her hair and take a deep breath.

"Stop worrying." Lena mumbles, not moving from her position.

"Hm?"

"About your new assignment."

I bring up a hand so I can play with my girlfriend's curls, "I'm trying not to. I told her to call me if anything happened, but that's as good telling Jesus to keep his skateboard out of the driveway." Lena laughs into my neck, her breath a hot puff of air.

"Are you going to check up on her tomorrow?" she asks.

"Yeah. I need to get her enrolled in school. We should get some rest. Goodnight, I love you."

"Love you, too."

We have not even a minute of silence before my phone is going off. I groan and turn my body so that I can grab the blaring object from the bedside table. I look at the caller-ID and see that its Bill. I press the 'accept' button and hold the phone up to my ear.

"Bill, it's the middle of the―"

"_It's Callie." _I sit up at this, nearly knocking Lena off the bed with my force. She gives me a worried look, wondering what is wrong.

"What happened? Is she okay?" I ask. I've put the light on and I'm already changing out of my pajamas and into some sweats.

"_There's been a fire."_

**A FIRE! *Le gasp***

**Wow I have done absolutely nothing all day. I have another idea for a Callie/Stef story and I want to write it but I'm going to hold off until I finish school. I graduate June 27****th**** and prom is the following Monday. I swear my school wants to be the last school in the world to do everything.**

**Thank you guys for all the support! Don't feel shy sending me a PM or whatever. It's all good ;)**

**Please leave a review below! You're thoughts matter.**

**-Liv**

**P.S.- That new Fosters promo though…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Callie _(earlier...)_**

I sit on Marcy's couch and listen as she prattles off about her last husband, husband number three. There's a hole in the arm of the couch and I can see the yellow stuffing inside.

This place is a dump.

There are water stains on the ceiling mold along the baseboards. Bill told me that foster parents have to get their houses checked before they are allowed to have kids in their home. Living standards need to be up to par in order to foster. I guess after the first inspection, this rule gets tossed out the window.

"...and then we danced the night away at this charming little restaurant in Tijuana." Marcy clasps her hands together, "It was perfect. Just wonderful!" She pauses for a moment and abruptly turns into the kitchen. I can't see her anymore, but I can hear the clinking of a glass and a liquid being poured. I hear a jingling noise and Marcy walks back into the living room, car keys in hand.

"I need to run to the store," she informs me as she grabs her purse from the coffee table, "You'll be okay right?"

"Yeah."

She grins and gets into my face, flashing those horrid teeth, "Such a good girl." The smell of vodka on her breath is strong and unmistakable. Marcy heads for the door and after blowing me a kiss, she's gone. I sigh and let myself sink a bit into the filthy couch. My body has begun to ache, the pain killers I had taken previously wearing off. I pull my bag towards me and rummage through it to get the pills. Once I have them, I take out two and swallow them dry.

I let my eyes slip close for a moment. I'm exhausted. I want to go to sleep so badly but there's something I have to do first. I stand up, letting out a little gasp at the pain that shoots through me. The pills haven't kicked in yet. I begin to walk around the house and search for a phone. I need to call Jude and let him know I'm coming for him. I finally find one attached to the wall. It's old and some buttons are missing but it will have to do. I pick it up and hold it to my ear: no dial tone. With a frustrated sigh I slam the phone back into its cradle. This lady probably didn't pay her bills.

Defeated, I head back to the couch to rest a bit. I fight it as long as I can, but eventually my eyes droop and I fall asleep.

* * *

The first thing I'm aware of when I wake up is that it's a lot warmer in the house then it was before. And what's that smell? Disoriented, I stumble to my feet and I'm stunned by the sight I see.

The entire stove is on fire.

I run to the sink and turn it on full blast. I grab a bowl from the dish rack and fill it to the brim before dumping it on the flames. Oddly enough, this only makes it worse. A flame laps out and gets my hand. I jump back, dropping the bowl to the ground as I do. I begin to search the cabinets for a fire extinguisher. I don't find one, and I don't know why I would get my hopes up.

I run to the phone to call 911 and I'm halfway there when I remember that it doesn't work. At this point, the smoke is thick and I'm starting to cough. Sweat drips down my back as the heat gets more and more intense. I head for the front door, planning to get help from a neighbor or something, and I'm surprised to find I can't open it. I twist the handle hard a couple times before giving up, slamming the wooden door hard with my hands in frustration.

Marcy locked me in.

Did she think I would try to escape or something? I don't have much time to think about this because the smoke is becoming unbearable at this point. I head for a window and try to lift it but the paint is making it stick shut. The situation begins to turn almost surreal, like something out of a movie.

Tears well in my eyes without warning at the thought that I could die like this, trapped in this house. But I can't die, not with Jude out there by himself. I look around wildly and spot a lamp. Pulling the plug from the wall, I take the end of it and swing at the window which shatters almost immediately. I knock off as much jagged glass as I can before climbing out.

* * *

**Stef**

"What's going on Stef?"

Lena is sitting up in bed watching me with concern. I must look completely crazy, dashing around the room grabbing everything I need as fast as I can. I'm trying to be quiet so that I don't wake up the kids but I need to move fast, too.

"Stef?" I whirl around on the spot and realize I never answered Lena, "There's been a fire at the house I dropped Callie off at today."

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I _knew_ there was something off with that house. Bill had called to tell me there had been a fire and nothing else, like if Callie was okay or not. He had been on his way to the scene and could not talk for very long.

"She didn't…you don't think she started it, do you?" Lena asks quietly, wringing her hands in the comforter. That sounds pretty plausible, considering Callie's file, but then again she isn't her file. The girl I met today would never do something so malicious. Especially when she knows what, or _who_, she could lose as a consequence.

I shake my head with confidence, "No," I answer, "Definitely not. I'm gonna go, Love." I swoop down to kiss her and turn to leave but Lena catches me by the wrist.

"Be careful," she says gently, stroking her thumb right over my pulse point, "Be safe." I nod and give her hand a squeeze before breaking off her hold.

I don't think I've ever left the house so fast.

* * *

I arrive at the scene and end up having to park down the block due to the fire trucks and squad cars parked haphazardly in the street. The smell of smoke infiltrates my nose. The house is a mess: one side is completely blackened and the three windows are broken. The front door is on the lawn and looks as though it has been broken off of its hinges.

What the _hell_ happened?

"Stef!" I turn around to see Bill and I jog over to him.

"Where's Callie?" I ask him, and I can only imagine how frantic I look, "Is she okay? Is she hurt? How did this happen?"

Bill puts up a hand to stop my questioning, "The stove was left on. There was some spilt vodka on the counter that made is spread quicker and it got out of control."

"And Callie?"

"She's okay," Bill tells me and I allow my shoulders to relax, "She inhaled some smoke and she burned her hand but besides that, she's okay. The front door was locked from the outside so she was in the house for some time before she got out..."

"And where was Marcy this entire time?" I ask, annoyed that this happened not even 24-hours after Callie was placed in her care. How do you lock a child into a house? I'm shaking in anger at the thought.

Bill shifted a bit on his feet, "She was at a bar. She's been arrested for child negligence."

"Good." She deserves it, "Where's Callie?" Bill points to an ambulance and I speed walk over. The back doors are open and there she is, sitting on a gurney with an annoyed look on her face. She has an oxygen mask over mouth and nose and her left hand is wrapped in gauze but besides that she is fine. Her eyebrows furrow a bit when she sees me.

"Stef?"

I smile, happy that she has used my name without sarcasm for once, "Long time no see," I joke as I climb into the back of the ambulance, "You okay?"

Callie looks down at her worn out shoes, "Mm-hm."

"Must have been pretty scary," I say, trying to catch her eye, but she turns her head away with a sniff.

"S'not the worst thing that's happened."

She can't be serious.

She was just trapped in a house that was on fire and it's not the worst thing to happen to her? I don't even allow my mind to come up with scenarios that are worse than being trapped in a house that's on fire.

I put my hand on Callie's knee and she jerks away. I let my hand fall to my lap, "Well I'm glad you're okay."

Callie finally raises her eyes to meet mine and I see the confusion in them, the suspicion. I also notice that they're red and I don't know whether it's from the smoke, exhaustion, or possibly even crying.

She blinks and drops her gaze again, "Where do I go now?"

Instead of sounding scared as I imagined anyone would in this situation, she sounds resigned, just accepting her fate without any question and I get angry. Angry that the system has beaten her down to the point where she just goes through the motions of life with no regard of her personal feelings or well being.

I have an idea and I know I should discuss it with Lena first, but this seems like the only good option at the moment, "I have a new home for you."

"Where?"

"Just a few miles from here," Lena might just kill me, "It's mine."

**Thank you all so much for the reviews last chapter! I'm surprised and humbled and feel so loved! :) I'm so glad you guys like the story! I'm sorry if chapters aren't as long as you'd like, I have very specific ideas of where I want things to end which is why some chapters may be shorter than others.**

**We only need to get through one more Monday you guys! I'm so pumped! Next chapter, Callie meets Mariana and it's pretty funny. Well, I think it is anyway. **

**Leave a review below!**

**-Liv**


	7. Chapter 7

**Callie**

I look Stef over, waiting for her to take back her offer. She can't be serious. Go live with _her_?

"What?" I finally ask, realizing I haven't said anything yet.

"You can come live with me."

I shake my head and lower the oxygen mask so that my voice comes out clearer, "No, I can't."

Stef tilts her head to the side, "Why not?"

I open my mouth, ready spit out a whole list of reasons but I find myself unable to say a single thing. What's the matter with me?

"I just...I can't."

"Course you can," Stef says with her signature smile, "I'm going to go talk to Bill right now. Hang tight, I'll be right back." I watch her walk away, off to find my social worker.

I can't understand why she's doing this; why she is so concerned about me. No one has taken this much interest in me in years, not since my mom. What does she want from me? I crane my neck to see where Stef is with Bill. She's speaking very energetically and he has a look on his face I can only describe as hesitation. He'll say no...right? This has to be a conflict of interest or something. My parole officer can't be my foster mom...I think. At this point, Stef is on the phone with someone and Bill is walking towards me.

Here we go.

"Hey, Callie," he greets with a tired smile, "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," I say curtly, "What's going on?"

Bill clasps his hands together, "Well, Officer Foster has graciously offered her home for you. She's a certified foster parent―"

"Can she do that?" I cut him off, "Is she allowed?"

"This is definitely a..._unique_ situation, but I don't see any reason why this can't work. I've known Stef for years and I know for a fact she has nothing but good intentions."

I let out a breath and rub my nose a bit, "Whatever." Bill gives me a look. Stef heads back over to where we are.

"We're all set," she says, bringing her hands together, "I talked to the paramedic and he said you're free to go. Ready?"

I take off the oxygen mask and toss it onto the gurney, "I guess." I stand up and hop to the ground. A firefighter walks over to us and he's holding my bag.

"Here are your things, Ms. Jacob," he says, handing me the bag, "It doesn't look like there's any damage although your belongings might smell like smoke."

I nod, "Thanks." I turn to Stef, "Can we leave now?"

She shakes her head 'yes,', "Sure thing. Let's go."

* * *

**Stef (a few minutes earlier…)**

"I'm sorry, you want to _what_?"

I turn my body to look over at the ambulance Callie is sitting in before turning back around, "I want to foster Callie."

"Stef…"

"Hear me out, Lena." I plead in a desperate tone, "The other only option would be to send her to a group home and you _know_ how bad they can be. She's not good with male authority figures; we'd be perfect." Lena doesn't speak for a moment and I swear I can hear the gears turning in her head as she thinks this over. Usually she's the one who gets goo-goo eyes and I'm the one saying no. Suddenly, the tables have been flipped.

"Okay," Lena finally says after what seems like an eternity, "You can bring her home with you for tonight. I need to meet her before we think any further than that."

I grin, "Thanks, Love. This means so much to me."

"I know. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay, love you."

"Love you, too."

* * *

**Callie**

The car ride to Stef's house is silent and I'm glad because I'm too tired to make pointless small talk. Not that I would know what to say anyway. I glance over at Stef who has her eyes trained on the road. What does she want from me? I let out a small cough and Stef doesn't even take her eyes off the road to reach a hand over and pat my back.

"You okay?"

I shrug her hand away, "Yeah." I turn my gaze towards the window. We're driving through a decent neighborhood with pretty large houses. How much money do parole officers make these days? The car begins to slow down and Stef turns into the driveway of an old Craftsman-style house. I can't see many details because it's so dark but you don't need much light to see that it's nice. She cuts the engine and opens her door and I do the same. Before I can even open the back door, Stef has taken my bag and slung it over her shoulder. I follow her to the front door and wait for her to open it with her keys.

The house is illuminated by soft light from different lamps. Stef leads me to the living room and I see a woman sitting in one of the chairs. She has dark skin with super curly dark-brown hair that is piled into a bun on top of her head. She smiles when she sees me and stands up.

"This is Callie," Stef says in way of introduction to this woman. She looks nothing like Stef so she can't be a relative…a friend maybe?

"Who are you?" I ask, pretty confused at this point.

"My name is Lena," she answers in a kind voice, "I'm Stef's partner."

I raise an eyebrow, "You're a parole officer, too?" I find that hard to believe.

Lena must find it hard to believe too because she laughs along with Stef, "No, Honey. Her domestic partner."

I look between the two women for a moment before it clicks, "So you're dykes."

They both freeze for a moment and I almost feel bad. Almost. But I can't get too comfortable with these women because I'll be gone by the end of the week. Or by tomorrow, if I have it my way. The less I like them, and the less they like me, the easier this whole process will be.

Stef gives me a tight lipped smile, "Yes, we're gay. I hope that's not―"

"Where do I sleep?"

Stef gives me a look, like she's trying to keep her cool, "Excuse me?"

"It's not my first time in a foster home," I inform her, holding her gaze, "Where do I sleep?"

Lena takes over at this point, "For tonight, will you be okay on the couch? We have an extra bed in the garage but it's not put together."

I nod, "Yeah. S'fine."

Lena smiles, "If you come with me, I'll show you where the bathroom is. Stef, can you get some blankets and pillows?" Stef nods and she heads towards the stairs. I kind of wish she had stayed because I don't really want to be alone with Lena, but I guess I don't have a choice. She seems nice enough, but you can never be too sure.

"Callie?"

I look up and she's giving me a concerned look. I must have blanked out for a bit. I shake my head to clear it of the cobwebs that cloud it.

"Yeah, so the bathroom?"

* * *

**Stef**

I finally walk into the bedroom after getting Callie all set up. Lena is sitting up, a look on her face. I know it was unfair of me to spring this on her so soon and so late at night. I turn off the light and crawl into bed, not bothering to change into my pajamas. My sweats will do the trick. I try to relax but it's impossible with Lena's eyes boring a hole into the back of my head.

"So, Callie." She finally says.

"Callie."

"She's…something."

"Mm-hm."

She pauses for a moment, "So…what happened to her face?"

"She was in a fight with some girls before she got released. They were jealous she was getting out."

I can't see them, but I can feel Lena's eyes widen, "Stef, we can't have somebody violent in our house. We have our own kids to worry about."

I sigh and finally turn around to face her, "She's not violent. She's…resilient. Trust me; her bark is a lot worse than her bite." I reach a hand out to cup her cheek, "I wouldn't have brought her here if I thought she would harm any of us."

"Alright," Lena breathes out and slips a hand beneath my shirt to rest on my abdomen, "She can stay."

"Thanks, Love." I whisper into her hair and kiss the crown of her head, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

**Callie**

After a few hours of sitting on the couch, I decide to get up. I can't let myself sleep because that's when bad things happen, especially when you're with people you don't know. I shuffle into the kitchen and look at the clock: 5:23 AM. With nothing better to do, I begin to look around, gather as much information about these people as I can. I look at the fridge, which is covered in papers and photos. I see a lot of photos of the same three kids. Two look Spanish and the other one is white with blue eyes but they're together in all of the photos. I know Stef mentioned she had a daughter…did she mean this Spanish girl? Did she and Lena adopt all of these kids?

I move on to the wall where a chore chart hangs: how suburban. The names on it are Brandon, Jesus, and Mariana. If I had to make an educated guess, I would say Jesus is the Spanish boy, Mariana is the girl, and Brandon is the one with blue eyes. A pain shoots through my ribs and I suddenly remember that I had the shit beaten out of me less than 24 hours ago. I head back to the living room to get my painkillers.

I've heard a lot of stories about foster kids getting addicted to drugs. To cope, I guess. I won't let myself become one of them. I have Jude to worry about and I have seen firsthand what an addiction can do to people. I guess I can cut a pill in half, just enough to get me through the night. I fish out a pill and bring it to the kitchen. I look around for something to cut it with and I see a cutlery block filled with knives. I select the biggest one, because I know it will get the job done the easiest.

I hear a noise behind me and I whirl around to see the Spanish girl standing in the doorway. She's looking at me with wide, terror-filled eyes and I can only imagine what I look like with my messed up face and tangled hair, all while holding a knife as big as my head.

I remember her name from that stupid chore chart, "Mariana."

She lets out a scream.

**Guys. My allergies are KILLING me. My nose is stuffed and I can't stop sneezing and I just want to stay in bed until winter. I can't take pills because**

**A. I can't swallow them and crushing them is annoying/gross**

**B. They make me pass out. Not drowsy, just straight up pass out.**

**#thestruggle**

**I hope you like this chapter! Thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites. They make me so happy! :) **

**Leave a review below!**

**XOXO Liv**


	8. Chapter 8

**Mariana**

I shuffle back to my room after my trip to the bathroom. I hate getting up any earlier than I have to, but Mother Nature was calling. I push a few strands of loose hair from my face and head towards my room when I hear a noise downstairs. I pause near the top of stairs and wait a bit. It sounds like footsteps in the kitchen. Mom? Sometimes she gets called to work in the middle of the night. I'm already awake; I guess I'll go join her.

I head down the stairs quietly. Mama, Jesus and Brandon are still sleeping so I don't want to wake them up. I turn into the kitchen and it's a bit hard to make out Mom with all the shadows. Wait…

That's not Mom.

There's a girl standing in our kitchen moving stuff on our counter. Oh God. She's robbing us! I try to back out of the kitchen to get Mom but stupid me, I hit the garbage can and she whirls around to face me. Her eyes are wide and she looks like a mess and…

Is that a _knife_?

She eyes me for a moment before saying in a quiet voice, "Mariana."

My eyes go from her face, to the knife, and back to her face before I let out a scream.

* * *

**Stef**

I scramble out of bed at Mariana's scream, racing towards the sound of it. Lena is right behind me. We thunder down the stairs and slide into the kitchen to find out just what the hell is going on. The sight that greets us is one that will not escape me for a while.

Callie is standing against the counter on one side of the kitchen, hair in her face as she clutches a knife in her good hand. Mariana is on the opposite side, looking at Callie as if she is Freddy Kruger instead of a sixteen year old girl.

"What is going on?!" Lena asks frantically, reaching a hand out to jerk Mariana closer to her.

"She broke into our house and tried to kill me!" Mariana shrieks as she scrambles behind Lena, dramatic as ever, "Arrest her, Mom!"

I roll my eyes, "Mariana, she didn't break into the house. Her name is Callie; I brought her here."

"She still tried to kill me!"

Callie's eyes narrow at this, "I was _not_ trying to kill you. I was trying to cut a pill."

Mariana pulls a face, "You're doing drugs?"

"No!"

"Enough!" I say, putting a hand up to end the argument, "Callie please put the knife on the counter. Lena, take Mariana to the living room. You might as well tell the boys to come with you since I know they're on the stairs eavesdropping." I hear some footsteps that confirm my hypothesis. As soon as the kitchen is vacant except for me and Callie, I take a seat at the island.

"Take a seat, Callie. It's okay." She eyes me wearily before taking a seat opposite and diagonal from me, as far away as she can get, "Can you please tell me what happened?"

"What does it matter?"

I take a deep breath, "I just want to know. Mariana tends to be somewhat of a drama queen," I smile a little at her but her face remains blank, "So what's your side of the story?"

Callie rubs her nose, "I wanted to take a pill but I didn't want an entire one so I was trying to cut it in half. Your daughter walked into the kitchen and freaked out."

"Why half a pill?" I ask, genuinely curious, "The nurse in the infirmary said you could take two every six hours." Callie shrugs and looks away and that's the end of the conversation. I stand up and gesture my head towards the living room.

"I guess now is as good a time as any to meet the family, if you're up for it?"

Callie nods a little and her eyes flick to mine for a moment before they return to the table. In that split second I see something in her eyes. Fear? I walk over to her and kneel down a bit.

"Callie? It's okay. You're safe here." She nods again but I know she doesn't believe me. I lead the way to the living room where everyone is spread out. Lena is sandwiched between Mariana and Brandon on the couch (Callie's makeshift bed) and Mariana is shooting Callie a skeptical look. Brandon looks just as confused as Jesus who is strewn out by himself on a chair.

"So guys," I begin, "This is Callie. She is going to be staying with us for a little while."

Jesus gives her the once over, "What happened to your face? Did you get in a fight?"

Lena shoots him a warning look, "Jesus."

"It's nice to meet you," Brandon says with a small smile, always my polite boy.

Callie pushes some hair behind her ear and turns towards Mariana although she doesn't raise her eyes, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Mariana shrugs and presses into Lena, "It's fine."

"We should get back to bed," I suggest, glancing at the clock, "You guys need to be up for school in a few hours." Everyone gets up and heads for their rooms. I hug and kiss each child before they disappear upstairs. I whisper to Lena that I'll be right up before I turn back to Callie who is staring at me in almost a sad sort of way. For the first time since I've woken up, I notice how red her eyes are; how drained she looks.

"Have you slept at all, Sweets?" The pet name slips out before I can stop myself. Callie looks up at me, somewhat alarmed, and suddenly I remember that she's just a child. Scared, angry and confused.

I sink into a chair next to the couch and reach over to pat the blankets, "Come lie down, Callie."

She doesn't move and the mistrust is obvious in her eyes. I try not to think of what happened when she was younger during that night that would make her so reluctant to fall asleep while I'm around. Sensing that Callie isn't about to lie down any time soon, I curl up as best I can on the chair and allow my eyes to slip closed. I think I've slept maybe four hours the entire night and the day's events are starting to take their toll. I let out a breath and try to get comfortable.

Perhaps five minutes pass before I hear some movement. Next thing I know, I feel a blanket being tossed over me and gently secured. I hold my breath and keep myself still so that I don't spook Callie. I hear a shuffling noise, a click, and the creaking of the couch and I figure Callie must be lying down by now. I wait ten minutes, until I hear her breathing even out. I cautiously open my eyes to sneak a peek. She doesn't move so I figure it's safe to get up. As quietly as I can, I put my feet on the floor and walk towards her.

Callie looks a lot different in her sleep than she does when she's awake. She doesn't look nearly as intimidating as she makes herself to be. By the looks of it, she won't be waking up any time soon. Her body needs the rest to recuperate. I kneel down and place my hand gently on her forehead. Her eyebrows knit together and a frown comes over her mouth. She begins to stir and that's the last thing I want to happen.

"Shh, Callie. Relax." I shush her, using my thumb to smooth her eyebrows, "You're alright; it's okay."

She settles down once again with a little sigh, finger coming up to rest against her nose. Without warning, a lump lodges itself in my throat.

"Oh, Callie." I breathe, "Let us take care of you."

I stand up and walk back over to the chair. I wrap myself up in the blanket and bunker down for the night. I can't leave her alone tonight. I know Lena will understand. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

**Damn allergies gave me a sinus infection. It's not pretty guys: things are discolored, things drip… Sorry I'm telling you guys this but misery loves company. **

**Guys, just one week tomorrow! Clap it up!**

**Question: would you guys like me to follow the preceding of the show or nah? I mean, I know I sorta am already, but are there specific storylines I should do?**

**Let me know!**

**-Liv**

**P.S.- 'Tis but a scratch (I've been laughing for years at this)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Stef**

"Stef...wake up."

I blink my eyes open to see Lena standing over me. She's already dressed and geared up for the day. I glance over at Callie who is still fast asleep.

"What time is it?" I slur, rubbing the sleep put of my eyes.

"6:30," Lena replies in a quiet tone, "I'm about to get the kids up for school. I came looking for you last night and I found you down here."

I sit up and stretch a bit. I'm way too old to be sleeping on chairs like this, "Yeah. I just couldn't leave her alone last night, y'know?" Lena nods and gives me a look, her brown eyes bright with something. I raise an eyebrow at her.

"What?"

She shakes her head, her curls dancing, "Nothing, nothing. It's just…you're always the one telling _me_ not to get too attached."

"I'm not getting attached," I say quickly, and even _I_ have to admit that sounded weak. Lena hums and walks off to the kitchen. I run a hand through my hair. I figure I should call Captain Roberts and fill her in on everything that is going on. Callie will have to stay at the house today which means so will I. A yawn escapes me and I bring a hand to my mouth. I stand up, roll my neck, and head for the kitchen to get my daily caffeine fix.

"What are you going to do with Callie today?" Lena asks. She is already getting to work, taking out plates and cups for breakfast. She goes for the eggs but I wave my hand at her, letting her know I'll take care of the cooking.

"I was supposed to register her for school today...do you think we could get her into Anchor Beach?"

Lena looked up in thought for a moment, "I don't see why not. She'll have to take the placement test, of course."

I nod and reach for a mug to fill up with coffee, "Alright. I need to call the Captain after I make breakfast. I'm going to stay home with Callie and get her settled in."

"Alright, I'll go wake up the troops." I grin and watch Lena head for the stairs. This is sure to be an interesting day.

* * *

"So, who is this girl exactly? Where did she come from?"

The kids are seated around the kitchen table and their curiosity has peaked. Mariana's gaze remains on my face as she waits for me to answer. I clear my throat and lower the fork of food I was about to bring to my mouth.

"Callie is going to be staying with us for a bit," I answer, "I've been assigned as her parole officer. She was just released from, uh, juvie―"

"No way!" Jesus interrupts eyes bright as he gets excited, "That's sick! What'd she do? Is that how she got beat up?"

Lena taps his arm, "There's nothing _cool_ about juvie," she says, always on a mission to ensure our kids remain good-standing members of society, "But yes, that's where she got hurt, so let's be nice, okay? No third degree. I'm talking to _you_, Jesus." He puts his hands up in mock surrender and attacks his food in a way that only teenage boys can.

"So she's just going to stay on the couch?" Brandon asks, eyebrows knitted together.

"I'm going to take the extra bed out of the garage," I answer as I reach for my coffee, "We'll put her in Mariana's room."

My daughter's eyes widen in horror, "_Excuse me_? My room? She just got out of juvie and she tried to kill me last night!"

"Cool it, Miss Thing," I say, "Callie wasn't trying to kill you. You'll be just fine." She shoots me a wicked look and I shoot her one right back. She lowers her gaze to her food with a pout and pushes her food around her plate.

"We all need to be helpful," Lena says, eyes catching each pair of the kids' eyes, "Callie's been through a lot. We need to make sure she feels welcome here."

We get varying responses, some less enthusiastic than others, but the message is pretty much the same. Jesus and Mariana were once in a boat similar to Callie's so I hope they can offer her some understanding. Brandon has already gone through the process so I hope he can do it again.

I smile at all of them and reach for Lena's hand under the table, "Thanks, you guys."

* * *

"_Let me get this straight…you want to foster your parolee?"_

I'm pacing the length of my bedroom as I talk to Captain Roberts. I explained everything that happened yesterday as well as my idea and I hope that she sees the rationale and can get behind it.

"Captain, she doesn't do well with male authority figures. Lena and I can provide her with the environment she needs. Plus we're certified."

I hear her sigh over the phone line, _"Stef, I see where you're coming from, but I'm not sure how this will fly with the higher ups."_

"This girl has been through hell," I argue, "She deserves to be in a good home where she can just focus on herself. She deserves to be safe."

Captain Roberts is silent for a moment, _"Okay, Stef. She can stay with you. I'm going to go to bat for you with headquarters. You owe me big time, Foster."_

I grin, "Thank you Captain. I'll stop by later on today." I hang up the phone and let out a relieved breath. Callie can stay. Now I just need to worry about getting her all set up. I head downstairs to the living room. Lena and the kids are long gone by now and the house is empty except for the two of us. I peek in at Callie who is still on the couch, dead to the world. Her chest rises and lowers steadily although her breathing sounds a bit labored. I don't think she ever got the chance to take a painkiller yesterday.

I go to the kitchen to grab another mug of coffee before returning to the living room and getting comfortable sitting on the coffee table. I don't want Callie to wake up alone. I don't know how much longer she'll sleep, but so long as it brings her some semblance of relief, she can sleep for the rest of the week.

* * *

**Callie**

What wakes me up is the pain shooting through my body. I groan and blink my eyes against the sunlight. I never had the chance to take the painkiller yesterday and my body is reminding me of that.

"Are you okay?"

I nearly fall off the couch at the voice and shoot up into a sitting position. Stef is perched on the coffee table in front of me with a cup of coffee in her hands. From the looks of it she has taken a shower and she's dressed in jeans and a sweater. Her hair is down and wavy and she looks a lot more relaxed than the first time I met her.

"I'm fine." I mumble. I blink a bit and yesterday's events flood back into my memory. What a day. I glance at the clock and my eyes nearly bug out of my head. It's 11:47 AM. I don't remember the last time I slept this late.

Stef must sense this because she offers up an explanation, "You went through a lot yesterday and we figured you could use the sleep."

"Where is everyone?" I ask.

"The kids went to school and so did Lena. She's the vice-principal at their school." She explains as her eyes shine with pride, "I was actually hoping we could get you set up there."

"In school?"

Stef nods and stands up, "There's breakfast in the kitchen. We can talk more in there." She walks off and I follow a minute later. Now that it's light outside, I can see more details of the house. It's very lived in: you can tell a family lives here. There are pictures all over the walls of Stef and Lena and the kids. There are varying pairs of shoes by the front door and random school books on the counters. It's very different from what I'm used to.

I walk into the kitchen and take a seat as far from Stef as I can. She puts down a plate of eggs and toast in front of me and I study it for a moment before slowly reaching for my fork to bring some food to my mouth. My eyes are on my plate but I can tell she's watching me and it makes me uncomfortable.

"Why are you here?" I ask, focusing on eating, "Shouldn't you be at your job?"

"You _are_ my job." I look up at Stef and she's smiling at me from behind her mug as she takes a sip of coffee, "So after you're done here we're going to head to Anchor Beach. We're going to look around and set up a time for your placement test. Also, we're going to stop by the police station just so we can square aware some last minute details. Does that sound okay?"

I nod. I don't understand why she asks for my opinion so often. What I want never matters in the end anyways. I finish eating and look up at Stef, "Can I use the bathroom?"

"Of course," she says. I put my dishes in the sink and move to get my stuff but Stef is blocking the entry way. She has two painkillers in one hand and a glass of water in the other, "You should take these."

I take the pills and toss them back, foregoing the glass of water. I grab some clothes from the living room before following Stef upstairs. She brings me to a large bathroom down the hallway, "This is the kids' bathroom. There should be body wash and shampoo and conditioner in the shower. Toothpaste is on the sink and there are extra toothbrushes in the cabinet. Careful with your hand, alright? We'll take a look at it after your shower. If you need anything, just yell." She leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

I begin to strip off my clothes, stifling the gasp of pain that wants to escape. My ribs are covered in a multitude of bruises. They vary from red to blue to purple. I step into the shower and turn on the hot water. It's like heaven on my aching joints. Well, except for my hand which I try to keep out of the spray of water. I do a 360 looking for some soap when I notice something on the wall. They're faded and peeling but I recognize the Skippy stickers right away. Jude loves those characters.

Jude.

I can't call him right now because he's in school but I can call him later. I haven't figured it out yet but I have to go get him. There is no way I'm leaving him with that asshole, Jim. I'm not sure what will happen to me when I go get him, but I could go back to juvie for all I care if it just means Jude is safe.

I finish up in the shower and get dressed. I wrinkle my nose at the scent of my clothes: I smell like an ashtray. I run a comb through my hair and brush my teeth before heading downstairs to where Stef is waiting for me in the kitchen. There's some gauze on the counter along with a bottle of something. She waves me over and waits expectantly. I walk over to her slowly, subconsciously bringing my hand closer to my body.

"It's okay, Callie." Stef says softly, "I just want to make sure your hand is healing correctly. Is it alright if I look at it?" She waits for me to say something; to do something.

She waits and waits and waits.

Finally, after about two minutes of complete silence, I slowly extend my hand towards her. I curse myself for not being able to keep it from shaking. She shouldn't know how scared I really am. She could use it against me. Stef gently takes my hand in hers and I reflexively jump.

"Sorry, Sweets," she murmurs her apologize as she starts to peel off the gauze. She unwraps it all the way and I see my skin for the first time since last night. It's not a pretty sight. It's red and shiny and blistering. And it burns.

Stef reaches for the bottle now and I try to pull my hand away, "What's that?" I ask nervously.

"Hydro-cortisone with aloe," she answers, pausing her movements, "It will help your skin heal and not burn so much. Is that okay?"

I nod and watch as she squeezes some of the lotion onto her fingertips before gently applying it to my skin. It's cool on my skin and I immediately feel the relief. It's weird, having someone take care of me like this. She's so gentle and kind. I want to kick myself for falling into her trap. That's how they get you. They break you down and gain your trust, only to pull the rug out from under you. I can't let that happen. Not again.

The minute Stef finishes wrapping the gauze around my hand, I pull my hand behind my back, "Can we go now?" My eyes are on the gauze because I don't think I could stare into Stef's eyes anymore. They're too much. Much too much.

I feel Stef eyeing me for a moment and stands up, "Sure." And we head to the car to go visit Anchor Beach.

**2,298 words. Damn!**

**I went to Dorney Park today and it was pretty gross outside but still a good time. You'll be glad to know that most of the rides I went on were 5/5 Aggressive Thrill rides. Except for Demon Drop because I'd like to keep my vital organs. **

**Thank you for the great response! You guys are amazing! Monday will be here before you know it! :)**

**Leave a review below!**

**Love, **

**-L****iv**


	10. Chapter 10

**Stef**

I pull into the Anchor Beach parking lot and put the car in park. Students are milling around the courtyard which leads me to believe we have come during lunch. I get out the car and wait for Callie to get out as well. I take in her awe-stricken face and I hold back a laugh. The appearance of the school tends to have that effect on people.

I nudge Callie's shoulder to get her attention, "Let's go find Lena."

I lead her through the campus and to the entrance of the school. The hallways are pretty scarce and it doesn't take us long to get to Lena's office. I knock on the door and open it as soon as I get the 'okay.' We enter to find Lena sitting at her desk, laptop out and papers strewn about her desk. She smiles at us.

"Hi, guys. How did you sleep, Callie?"

"Okay."

I take a seat in one of the armchairs opposite Lena's desk and Callie sits in the other. Lena clasps her hands together and leans forward at her desk.

"So, Callie," she begins, "Since this is a charter school, you'll need to take an entrance exam. Don't stress about it too much; I'm sure you'll do just fine. It's a test of your reading, writing, math and basic science skills. You'll be put into the eleventh grade, same grade as Brandon. Any questions so far?" Callie shakes her head so Lena continues, "Your placement test will also tell us where you are in terms of school. You'll need to take English, math, social studies, science, a foreign language, and an elective. I know this might sound overwhelming but I promise you, you'll get used to it."

Lena stands up, "Would you like to look around the school?" She leads the way and Callie and I follow her down the hall. We stop into empty classrooms as well as the library. We get to the music room and we allow Callie to look around by herself so that we can talk.

"How was she this morning?" Lena asks softly.

I turn my head to watch Callie as she looks at the different instruments, "She was…fine. Still very closed off. I talked to Captain Roberts."

"What did she say?"

"That Callie can stay with us," I reply, "I actually have to go to the station after this just to get the details in order." At this point Callie has stopped in front of a guitar that stands on a display. She reaches out a hand before dropping it to her side. After a moment, she reaches out her hand again and delicately touches the neck. I wonder if she knows how to play, "I also want to see if I can find her little brother for her."

"Do you know where he is?"

"With the foster father whose car Callie destroyed."

Lena's eyebrows knitted together, "And they just left him in the house?" The best I can offer is a shrug. Neither of us understand how the system works most of the time. It seems like more often than not, the kids in it always get the opposite of what they need. Callie comes out of the room and stands expectantly.

"Anything else you want to see?" I ask. She shakes her head, "Alright, we can head down to the station now." I kiss Lena good-bye and lead Callie out of the school.

* * *

I lead Callie through the police station and to my desk. She's taking in the new environment apprehensively. I can't blame her. If I had her record, I would feel uncomfortable in a cop station, too. I take a seat at my desk and gesture for her to sit in the chair next to it. I open a drawer and take out her file along with some other papers I need.

"So yesterday I mentioned group therapy as one of the terms of your parole," I say, reaching for a pen while Callie watches me carefully, "It will meet on either Sunday or Saturday mornings every week, it depends. There will be other foster kids that are around your age. The therapist's name is Dr. Kodema―"

"Why do I have to go?" Callie cuts me off with her question.

I press my lips together, "Well its one of the terms of your probation―"

"That doesn't answer my question."

The attitude on this girl is almost too much to handle, "Well," I begin cautiously, "Clearly you have some things you need to work through and Dr. Kodema is going to help you do that."

Callie folds her arms across her chest, "I'm not crazy," she mumbles, "This is such bullshit."

"Watch the language," I reprimand her gently. When did I turn into Lena? "This isn't a punishment, Callie. This is to help you."

"I don't need help!" she snaps, brown eyes blazing, "And I don't need you!"

"Than what do you need, Callie?" I keep my eyes trained on her; give her my undivided attention. I'm not going to let her get off that easy, "Callie? What do you need?" Her eyes finally meet mine and I'm surprised to see tears in them. She's just about to open her mouth―

"Stef?"

I turn around to see Captain Roberts sticking out of the door of her office, waving me to come inside. I silently curse under my breath before answering her.

"I'll be right there Captain." She nods and disappears into her office. I turn back to Callie and just as I feared, the walls are back up and she is giving me her classic indifferent stare.

"Callie―"

"You should go," she says, turning her head to the side as she reaches up a hand to rub her nose before dropping it to her lap.

I let out a defeated breath, "I'll be right back, okay? And then we're going to talk." She dismisses me with an uninterested wave. I reluctantly get up and head to the Captain's office. I pull the door behind me and take a seat.

"I see you brought Callie with you," Captain Roberts begins, leaning back in her chair, "How is she doing?"

"She's okay," I say, for lack of a better answer, "Actually, we just came from getting her set up with school."

She nods and brings her hands together, "As you can imagine, there are definitely some concerns I have about Callie living with you."

"Concerns?" I repeat.

"There's a high probability that this arrangement you have will be detrimental to Callie's progress."

I shake my head, "How? We're providing Callie with a positive, stable environment with no men to worry about."

"I understand that," Captain Roberts says, "But you have to understand something about Callie: she doesn't let people in. I've read every report available to me on this girl. I have no doubt you can be this girl's parole officer, but her foster mom? Stef, I think you're in over your head."

"With all due respect," I say, sitting up a bit straighter, "I think you're wrong. Lena and I are exactly what Callie needs. She deserves a lot better than what she's been going though." Even as I say this, I am beginning to doubt myself. I want to provide this child with everything she needs and get her on track to the life she deserves, but what if I'm not enough? I desperately want to believe I have Callie's best interests in mind. I've never felt this away about someone I've just met. Not since…

Not since Mariana and Jesus.

Hm.

* * *

**Callie**

I glance at the door of the office Stef disappeared into. Less than five minutes have passed but I'm beginning to feel anxious. They're talking about me, no doubt. I wonder what they're saying. Probably discussing everything wrong with me. Bored, I allow my eyes to drift over Stef's desk. There are picture frames of the kids and Lena from various years. There's one picture of the family when the kids are a lot younger. They're standing with a judge so I presume this is from the day Stef and Lena adopted the twins.

My eyes continue searching and I spot a file. My file. I quickly look at the office door. Sensing Stef won't be coming out any time soon, I carefully slide it towards me and flip it open.

There's a lot in here.

Numerous reports filled out by Bill and others are crammed into the single folder. I flip through each foster home carefully, scanning the complaints each foster parent had for me.

_Disruptive._

_Violent._

_Thief._

_Liar._

_Sexually inappropriate._

A flare of anger runs through me at that last one. That's from the Olmsteads. I glance at the clock and notice that it's getting later and school will be letting out soon. The kids would be going home soon. Kids.

Jude.

I need to go get him. I look at the office door once again as well as quickly scan the area around me. No one seems to be paying me much attention, but that isn't anything new. Stef left her purse on her desk chair. Rookie mistake. I pull it towards me and dig out her wallet. I'm not sure how much it will cost for a bus to San Ysidro. I grab two, twenty-dollar bills and a ten. I stuff them in my back pocket and stand up.

Stef won't care that I'm gone. No one ever does. All that matters right now is that I get Jude. I'll figure it out from there.

* * *

**Stef**

I finally finish my conversation with Captain Roberts and head back to my desk. I'm hoping we can pick up where we left off but I know that's highly unlikely. I reach my desk to find Callie is nowhere to be seen.

Weird.

I look around a bit and spot a fellow officer leaning against a wall, reading some report, "Hey, have you seen a teenage girl? Brown hair, sixteen years old?" He shakes his head 'no' and my heart begins to race because nothing about this situation is good. I speed walk to the women's bathroom and check each stall, but Callie is nowhere to be seen.

Shit.

I go back out to the bullpen and I run my hands through my hair. This isn't good at all. I notice for the first time since I've come out of the office that my purse has been moved from my chair to my desk. My cop instincts tell me to check my wallet and lo and behold, I'm short fifty dollars.

How do I tell my boss I just lost my parolee?

**Happy Father's Day to those dads who are:**

**Living and in heaven,**

**Taking care of other men's children,**

**Doing it alone,**

**And women being both mom and dad :)**

**I went to a party yesterday from 7PM-11PM. I woke up at 5:15 AM to babysit from 6AM until 12PM. I shouldn't be alive. On the bright side, tomorrow is my last day of school and…THE FOSTERS SUMMER PREMIERE! This is what we've been waiting for, guys! Oh happy days!**

**I'll be sure to update within a decent time of the premiere (probably Wednesday) so I can share my thoughts with ya'll. **

**Please leave a review!**

**-Liv**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Italics denote a flashback**

**Stef**

I stand still for a minute, just trying to pull myself together. I have a sixteen year old girl I'm responsible for and I don't have the slightest idea where she is. This isn't good, this isn't good at all. I glance at Captain Roberts's door. I know the right thing to do in this situation would be to tell her, but what good will that do? Callie might be taken back to juvie, and that's the last thing I want to happen.

Shit.

Where did she go?

I go back to my desk and sit down. I put my head in my hands and close my eyes so I can just _think_. Obviously Callie has no interest in being with me or in the system at all. Where would she go? It's not like she has any family…

Oh.

Jude.

* * *

**Callie**

I wish buses didn't have to stop so much. It's going to take a long time to get to San Ysidro as it is without having to stop every couple of minutes. I guess I should just be happy I have a way to get there and that I'll be with my brother.

My mind wanders to Stef and I shake my head to clear it. She doesn't matter. She'll probably have me tossed back into juvie after she finds out I stole from her, but that doesn't matter. Just as long as Jude is safe. This has been my goal ever since we entered the system. As long as he's safe, that's all that matters.

_Stupid baby._

_Mommy is singing MY song to Jude in MY chair. Having a little brother was supposed to be fun, but all he does is poop and cry and sleep. He's so boring, and Mommy is around him all the time. _

"_CJ, do you want to hold your brother?"_

_I shake my head._

"_Are you sure?"_

_I stand up from my seat on the floor and push my hair back with both my hands, "I'm sure." I leave Jude's room and go to my own. I crawl into my bed and pull the blankets over my head. My throat starts to hurt and my eyes begin to sting. Mommy is always too tired to play with me or busy with Jude. It's not fair. She was _mine_ first!_

_Stupid baby. _

_I hear my door open and some footsteps. My bed makes a noise and I feel someone tapping me._

"_Callie…"_

_It's my mom. Maybe if I'm quiet and don't move, she'll think I'm not here. My blankets move and suddenly she's underneath the covers with me. I try to move away but she holds me tight and kisses the back of my neck._

"_What's the matter with my Callie girl?" she asks and she begins to play with my hair, "You've been pretty quiet today."_

_There are so many tears in my eyes that they begin to fall before I can stop them. As soon as I start, I can't stop and I just cry and cry. Mommy turns me around in her arms so that I can put my ear over heart. She rubs my back and whispers into my ear._

"_I hate to see you cry," she says, "Why are you so sad?"_

"_Because Jude is stupid!" I wail, hiding my face in her shirt._

_I feel her get kind of still for a moment, "What?"_

"_You're always with him and you never play with me and he's loud and sleeps all the time and he cries too much, Mommy―"_

_I hear her begin to laugh and I get mad. I try to get away but she's really strong. She pushes my head back and touches her forehead to mine, "I love you so much, Callie. My special girl. Jude is just a baby, CJ. He can't do a lot right now. He needs me so much because he can't walk or talk yet. I know it's hard now but I promise it will get better."_

_I sigh, "But he's still here and we can't play together because he'll have to play with us too."_

_Mommy smiles and puts a hand on my cheek, "We'll still have our special time, I promise. I'm sorry I've been so busy lately. Jude is sleeping right now and I was going to start dinner. Would you like to be my special helper?"_

_I can't help but smile and I shake my head yes and hug my Mommy tight._

"_Callie Quinn, Jude is your little brother and you're his big sister. You have to look out for him because he's your only brother in the entire world. You have to show him what's good and what's bad and keep him safe. No matter what happens, you two will have each other. Can you do that for me? Can you look out for him?"_

_This is important because Mommy used both my names, "I can look out for him, because he's my brother."_

_Mommy smiles and kisses me and hugs me and there's nothing better in the whole wide world. _

It's my job to keep Jude safe and I'll be damned if I can't do that.

* * *

**Stef**

"_Why do you need the address of Jude's foster home?"_

I'm at home on the phone with Bill. I haven't told him or Captain Roberts about Callie being MIA. I'm pretty sure she's on her way to find Jude. That means to find her, I'll need to find him first which I can't do without an address.

"Callie really wants to see him," I say, pacing along the kitchen floor. He's stalling me and wasting precious time.

"_I don't know Stef…" _he says in a skeptic tone, _"Seeing him might make her regress―"_

"Please Bill," at this point I'm begging, "I need to get through to her and that's not going to happen if she can't see that her brother is safe. Please."

There's a moment of silence over the line, _"Alright. Give me a minute." _I barely stop myself from pumping my fist in the air.

I'm coming for you Callie Jacob.

* * *

"So wait, _how_ did you lose your parolee?"

I roll my eyes before returning them to the road, "I didn't _lose_ her Mike. She ran off."

We're driving to San Ysidro and I'm going a bit over the speed limit. I wish I had a siren; not that I could use it without probable cause. I stop for a red light and tap my fingers on the steering wheel as I anxiously wait for the light to turn green.

"Stef, relax." Mike says, looking at me, "She's probably fine. She's obviously street smart."

I sigh, "But she's still just a child. God, I hope she's okay."

The light finally turns green and I press on the gas, going as fast as I can get away with. I feel Mike's gaze on me and I spare him a quick glance before gluing my eyes back to the road ahead of me, "What?"

"This girl has really gotten to you, huh?"

"She's my parolee."

Mike chuckles, "Stef, if this was any other person you would have reported them and sent their ass back to jail."

He's right. I would have.

But Callie isn't some hardened criminal. She's a sixteen year old girl who needs to be shown some direction. Granted, she has an attitude to be dealt with and a wit that is too developed to be faked but she is just as vulnerable as any other kid.

"I'm giving her a chance." I finally say, "Someone has to."

* * *

**Callie**

I walk down the familiar block Jim's house is on. It's dark by now and a little cool. I spot the house from a few houses down. The lights are on. There's no way I can just knock on the door. Jim will take one look at me and call the cops. I have to go in through the back door. If it's around what time I think it is, Jude will be in the kitchen doing chores.

I move quickly and quietly for the house. The shadows provide me with a cover. I get to the fence that surrounds the back yard and peer in through a gap where a missing plank should be. From here I can see the kitchen window and―

Jude.

He's standing at the sink, washing dishes. I want to cry; I'm so relieved. I turn around so that I can head for the back door and nearly run into something. Or someone, rather.

Stef.

Shit.

**So the premiere. I feel like there were scenes we should have seen! Like, I would have loved to see Stef's reaction to Callie being locked up in that room. Also, I wanted to see Callie's initial reaction when she found out that Donald knew all along that she wasn't biologically his. Still, I was pretty happy with the episode and I'm hopeful for the rest of the season :)**

**Sorry this is so short :/**

**I love you all and all of the support for the story!**

**Oh! I took a love language quiz. It tells you what you see as a sign of love/what you respond best to. I got a score of 10/12 for Words of Affirmation which just reinforces how much I absolutely LOVE getting reviews from you guys. The longer, the better! **

**Till next time,**

**-Liv**

**P.S.- Side note, does anyone watch ****Rizzoli & Isles****? The end of that episode last night―I can't deal. **


	12. Chapter 12

**Callie**

Stef looks pissed.

All I can do is open and close my mouth like fish. How did she find me? Why is she even here? If anything I was expecting a squad car to take me back to juvie, not her. For the first time I notice there's a man behind her in a full on police-uniform. So it's not a squad car, but basically the same thing. Stef takes a step towards me and I take a step back. I don't know what she's about to do.

"Get in the car. Now." Stef grits out, pointing across the street. I glance back at the house where Jude is washing the dishes. No way am I leaving him here. I begin to turn away but Stef's hand clasps my upper arm. I begin to twist my body away and pull at her wrist but she holds on tight.

She pulls me close so that our faces are only inches away, "This is what's going to happen, Callie," Stef says in an angry whisper, "You _will_ get into the car right this minute or I will have you arrested for stealing, running away and therefore violating your parole. Your choice." Her gaze doesn't waver and I know she's serious.

Crap.

I think it over in my head for a minute before dropping my head in defeat. Stef leads me to the car where I know I'm about to get an earful.

* * *

**Stef**

"Care to tell me what you were thinking?!" Callie is sitting in the passenger seat while Mike waits outside some ways down the sidewalk. I don't want to intimidate her with a strange man she's never met before, "I'm waiting."

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. I wonder if her only goal in life is to drive me completely up the wall because she's doing one hell of a job so far. I breathe in and out. Maybe Bill is right; Captain Roberts, too. Maybe I do have my work cut out for me.

"You have ten seconds to give me an explanation. Ten. Nine." I'm this girl's parole officer and yet here I am counting down as if I were a freaking kindergarten teacher instead of a cop. I can manage my own kids, no problem. Figuring out someone like Callie who I've only known for about a day is proving to be one of the biggest challenges I have yet to face. I reach one and Callie had yet to utter a word, let alone _look_ at me.

I take out my keys to put them in the ignition, "Okay, fine. If you're not going to talk, we'll just leave―"

"No!" her shout is sudden and loud and makes me jump in my seat, "We can't leave without Jude!" Her eyes are wide and full of alarm.

"Callie―"

"_Please_, Stef," she begs, her hand coming out to grip my arm, "I'm sorry I was rude and I'm sorry I stole your money. You can send me to a group home or juvie but please don't leave Jude here. Please?"

This is new. I knew there was more to the tough-girl persona she put on, but seeing Callie so vulnerable and raw is startling. She's gripping my arm desperately and for the first time seeking out my eyes instead of vice-versa. I open my mouth to answer her but I'm cut off by Mike rapping against my window frantically. I open my door and step out.

"Mike, what the―"

"This guy just pulled out a gun."

I turn around to tell Callie to stay put but she's already out of the car and making a mad dash for the house. I curse and run after her, Mike hot on my tail. He's speaking into his radio as we run to request back-up. I take my gun out of its holster and creep up to the front door so I can take a quick peek inside.

There's a little boy with his hands over his ears, tears streaming down his face. Jude, I presume. There's some broken glass on the floor and I wonder if this started the yelling or just happened to be in the way of it. Callie has run into the house and is standing in front of her brother, one hand held out to him and the other in front of Jim. She's yelling right back at him, backing up with Jude as Jim gets closer and closer to them with his gun.

I give Mike a little nod and we burst in through the front door, guns drawn.

"Police, freeze!" I yell in a well-trained, authoritative voice, "Get down on your knees now! GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES NOW!"

Jim sinks down to his knees while Mike yells at him to drop his weapon, gun trained in case he decides to do something stupid. I glance at Callie who has pulled Jude into the kitchen. Her forehead is pressed against his and she's running her hands over him. She kisses his head and hugs him to her, swaying them back and forth and whispering in his ear. I hear sirens in the background. Back-up is here. Mike is cuffing Jim so I put my gun away and make my way to the kitchen.

"Callie."

Her head snaps up and she tightens her grip on Jude as if I would just take him away right then and there. Jude moves his head and I can clearly see his face. It's red, most likely from crying. His eyes are full of fear and a little bit of curiosity. I kneel down so that I'm not towering over him.

"Hi there," I greet him with a smile, "My name's Stef. You're Callie's brother Jude, yes?"

He looks up at his sister and she nods a little. He looks back at me, "Yeah." He answers in a voice so quiet I almost miss it.

"There's some policemen outside that are probably going to ask you some questions," I warn him lightly, "You're not in any trouble, okay?" I wait for him to nod before standing back up, "Callie, can you help Jude pack his things and then meet me outside?"

She looks at me suspiciously for a moment before slowly nodding her head. She's smart enough to know that she can't take off. I move for the front door. Mike has taken Jim out of the house by now and I can see him being put into a cruiser. I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket and I take it out to see who's calling. The screen reads _Lena_.

Oh boy.

I never told her what was going on. I press the 'ACCEPT' button and hold my phone up to my ear, "Lena I―"

"Stefanie Marie Foster where the HELL are you?"

If Lena's cursing, she must be pretty pissed, "I'm so sorry, Love. I am. I had a situation with Callie―"

"You didn't answer me," she interrupts, "Where _are_ you?"

"San Ysidro."

She makes a noise, "You're practically in Mexico! What on earth are you doing there?"

I begin to explain what happened, starting at the station earlier this afternoon. I tell her about how I didn't tell Roberts and how I had gotten the address from Bill. I told her about finally finding Callie and how Jim took out a gun. I finish and Lena is quiet.

I wait a minute before getting the courage to ask, "Lena?"

"Just come home soon, okay?" she finally says quietly, "All of you."

Bless her heart.

I nod even though she can't see me, "We will. I love you."

"Love you, too." I hang up the call and turn back to the house where Callie is coming out with Jude. She has a duffle bag slung over her shoulders and Jude is clutching a backpack in front of himself like a shield.

I open the door to the car and wave them over, "Come sit in here, Jude. I just need to talk to Callie for a minute, alright?" I guess that was the wrong thing to say because he clutches his sister's arm so tightly that I'm afraid he'll draw blood, "It's okay, Jude. We'll be right behind the car; Callie will be right back, okay?"

He nods his head and reluctantly leaves his sister to climb into the car. I gesture for Callie to follow me so that we can talk somewhat privately. We stop near the trunk and I can feel the dread radiating off Callie as if it were a physical being.

"I need you to understand how this could have ended very badly," I begin in a firm but gentle tone, her eyes are darting around wildly, looking everywhere but at me, "You could have gotten hurt and so could Jude."

Callie lowers her eyes to the ground, "Look," she finally says in a resigned voice, "You can send me back to juvie but can you just promise me Jude will be somewhere safe?" Her eyes finally reach mine; they're simultaneously pleading for me to listen while searching my face for an answer.

I can't believe her. Does she really think I would just dismiss her? "You're not disposable, Callie. You're…you're not worthless."

Her eyes lock with mine and they're filled with tears. Something crosses her features for a moment. Something akin to hope. I put my hand on her back and guide her towards the car.

"Let's go, Callie. Let's go."

**GUYS. On Wednesday it was really hot (I live on Long Island) and I was out and my sister was home and she texts me "The house is one fire." So I reply "So put the AC on lol." And she texts me back "No, it's literally on fire." And sends me pictures of all the fire trucks and police cars at my house. I was in shock. I was babysitting two kids with special needs so I couldn't just leave so I just prayed my house would be okay. It is, thank the Lord. It was my water heater. Slomins came to fix it and my only complaint is that my water is freakishly hot now.**

**I'll take hot water over being homeless anyday.**

**Please leave a review! :)**

**-Liv**

**P.S.-Sorry if I'm not accurate with the duties of a parole officer and how the foster care system works. I'm an 18 year old who is graduating high school next week. I'm going off what I've seen in the many cop shows I watch. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Stef**

We finally get into the house a little before ten o'clock. I know Lena is still awake and I assume the kids are as well. Callie and Jude are practically dead on their feet and I'm no better. It's been a long night. Lena must have been looking out for us because I don't even get a chance to search for my keys before the door opens. I notice how Jude immediately moves behind Callie at the new, unfamiliar face.

Lena smiles at him, "Hi there, my name is Lena. Come on in." She steps back to let us into the house. I let Callie and Jude enter first and follow after, closing the door behind me. Lena wraps her arm around me and places a kiss at my temple.

"Don't scare me like that again," she whispers in a firm tone. I nod and move back.

"I'm going to go see about that bed in the garage―"

Callie cuts me off, "No, that's okay. We'll be fine in the living room."

I raise an eyebrow, "Are you sure? The couch isn't that big."

"We'll be fine," Callie says, putting her hands on Jude's shoulders, "Thank you."

Wow.

The girl speaking to me right now is a lot different than the girl I dealt with yesterday and earlier today. It would seem that Jude has an effect on her… His proximity to her, or at least his well-being, determines Callie's behavior.

"Okay," I say and turn to Lena, "Can you grab some extra blankets and pillows, Love?" She nods and disappears upstairs. "Are you guys hungry?" I ask, "I know it's been a few hours since you've eaten, Callie."

"I'm fine, thank you." She replies, the poster child for politeness.

Jude looks at his sister for a moment before looking at me, "I'm fine, too, thank you." So this is how their relationship works: Callie acts and Jude follows. Interesting, but not at all surprising. The system has put them into survival mode and now they're just living day to day. I hope they know I'm here to help them. It doesn't seem like it. It seems like they're waiting for me to snap or something.

"Okay," I sigh, "If you guys get hungry at all tonight just let me know, yes? Follow me, Jude. I'll show you where the bathroom is so you can get to bed. You guys must be exhausted."

I know I said Jude but it's Callie who follows me with Jude following _her_.

This is going to be a long night.

* * *

I finally manage to get Jude situated in the bathroom and Callie back in the kitchen. If it was up to her, she'd be right there in that bathroom with him. I don't think Jude would have even minded; he looks so scared. Callie is sitting across from me now at the table and her eyes are downcast, as per usual.

"Callie―"

"I'm sorry I stole from you," she says quietly, fiddling with a bracelet, "It was wrong and disrespectful." She reaches into her pocket and places a few bills and some coins on the table, "That's all the money that's left. I'll pay you back. I'm sorry."

I don't know who I prefer: the brazen girl who could give two-shits about what other people thought or this timid child who acts as if I'll send her to the electric chair if she makes one wrong move.

"Thank you for your apology," I say, trying to catch her eye, "I really appreciate it. I know you wanted to see Jude, but the way you went about it wasn't good. I told you I was going to get you in contact with him."

Callie shrugs, "People tell me a lot of things. That doesn't mean they're true."

"I haven't lied to you, Callie, and I won't."

"People tell me that, too."

We aren't getting anywhere.

I push a strand of hair behind my ear, "Tomorrow morning, Bill is going to come over so we can get everything straightened out."

Her head snaps up at this and she pales a bit, "You can't separate us!" she says, she _demands_, in a fierce voice.

"I never said I was," I say carefully, putting my hands down on the table. I'm not surprised when she moves hers to her lap, "I will do everything in my power to make sure you and Jude aren't split up again, okay?" Callie studies my face for a moment, gauging the authenticity of my words before finally nodding. She takes a shaky breath and I notice her grimace as she does.

"I say it's about time for another painkiller, huh?" I get up from my seat to go grab the bottle of pills and a glass for some water, "You're body is probably feeling it after all that running around you did today." I fill the glass about halfway, "That happens to me sometimes. Occupational hazard, you could call it. Lena gets so annoyed with me when I don't give my body 'time to recuperate.' I don't know. I'm always on the run." I'm rambling but I just want to ease Callie's nerves. She looks so tense in her seat and holding her body up so rigidly can't feel good on her aching muscles. I hand her two pills and the glass of water. She takes the medicine and drinks what is in her glass.

Callie gets up to put her glass in the sink and starts out of the kitchen, "I'm going to go check on Jude." She pauses by the doorway, as if waiting for my permission.

I nod, "Alright."

And she disappears.

* * *

**Callie**

Jude has finished his turn in the bathroom and now I'm taking mine. I don't think I've ever been this tired before. At least Jude is with me, for now. Bill will probably fuck that up tomorrow morning, but at least for tonight he's with me and somewhat safe. I hear a creak and turn around to see a door open and Mariana peek through. I guess this bathroom is attached to the bedrooms. She sees me and immediately begins to back out.

"Sorry," she mumbles.

"It's okay," I say quietly, "I was just brushing my teeth. You can stay if you want; it's your bathroom."

Mariana eyes me for a moment before stepping back into the bathroom. She opens a drawer and takes out a hairbrush and begins to sweep her dark locks up into a ponytail. I watch for a moment before going back to rinsing my mouth.

"I like your earrings."

My hand goes up to touch my piercings. I have two on my lobe and one on my cartilage in each ear. I didn't go to a salon for any of them.

"They're cool," Mariana says, turning to fully face me. Her hair is done and now she is just rolling the handle of the brush in her hands, "My moms won't let me get a second hole. Or a nose ring or a belly button ring _or_ a tattoo. It's like I live in a freaking convent."

I crack a smile at this, "That's the last thing I'd call this place." I put my toothbrush in the holder and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Is Jude okay?"

I'm surprised by her question. Mariana doesn't come off as someone who cares about people she barely knows. Jude was introduced pretty quickly to the Foster children. It's so late and everyone is pretty beat. I didn't expect her to give him the time of day.

"Yeah," I answer, "He's okay. Tired."

Mariana shifts on her feet, "Okay. We should probably get to bed. Goodnight." I watch her leave before heading out in the other direction, towards the living room. Everyone else is in their bedrooms. I get to the living room and see that Jude is sitting up, waiting for me. I turn off the lamp on the end table and get onto the couch. I sandwich Jude between myself and the back of the couch; I want him to be covered in case something goes wrong. I pull the blankets over us and pull him to me. His thin arms wrap around my waist and he rests his head on my chest.

God I missed him.

"Callie?" he whispers.

"Hm?"

"I'm scared. What if we get split up again?" I let out a little sigh because he has a valid point. Bill, or at least the states, could deem me a danger to Jude's well being and we could get separated again.

"That won't happen," I tell him as I press my lips to his forehead, "I won't let it."

"Promise?"

"I promise." I know I shouldn't promise him this when I don't know for sure, but I'll do anything to keep my word. If it were up to me, I would become Jude's legal guardian and we would be out of this messed up system and on our own. That won't happen, not with my record, "Let's get some sleep." I pull the blankets more securely over us and Jude huddles up close to me His eyes slip close but I keep mine open. I'd rather him fall asleep before me since this place is unfamiliar for him.

I run my hands through his hair, "It's going to be okay, Jude," I whisper in his ear, "We're going to be just fine."

* * *

**Stef**

"How are Callie and Jude?" Lena asks me as I walk into the bedroom.

"Asleep," I answer, crawling into bed, "Well, at least Jude is. I think Callie is still awake." I just got back from checking up on them. They're curled up so close together on the couch you would think they were one person. For someone who doesn't like to be touched, Callie sure can't keep her hands off Jude. It's as if she's afraid that if she's not touching him, he'll disappear, "Bill will be here tomorrow at around ten."

Lena switches off the bedside lamp, "These past two days have been crazy," she comments.

"Yeah," I agree. Lena snuggles up next to me and I wrap my arm around her to bring her closer to me, "I'm sorry about all this, Love," I apologize, "Had I known what I was getting into―"

Lena cuts me off with a kiss, "Stef, one of the many reasons I love you is because you have a big heart. I'm glad you got Callie and Jude out of that situation. If they need to stay here for a few days or weeks or even months, that's fine."

I smile. My girlfriend's compassion and understanding for the needs of others will never cease to amaze me. I pull Lena to kiss her on the forehead and she settles into me, legs intertwined with my own. Tomorrow will be interesting for sure, but at least for now I can rest.

**My life has been pretty mundane so I have nothing to share with you beauties. :/**

**Last night's episode was good. Felt more like a filler episode; nothing MAJOR happened but things were set into motion. Next week on Monday is my prom. As well as work orientation so…**

**7AM-12PM Work Orientation**

**12PM-3PM Hair**

**3PM-4PM Makeup**

**5PM-6PM Pre-Prom**

**7PM-12AM Prom**

**12AM-5AM After Prom**

**So I'll be up for basically 24 hours as well as miss the Fosters. I'm going to watch it at 6AM and then pass out until Wednesday night. **

**-Liv**


	14. Chapter 14

**Stef**

I walk towards the kitchen early the following morning and I'm pleasantly surprised by the smell of coffee being brewed. Lena is still in bed so it's not her and none of my kids drink coffee, which leads me to believe Callie is awake. My guess is right as I find her facing the coffee pot, fingers tapping the counter as the pot fills up. I clear my throat and she jumps a little and turns around.

"Good morning," I greet her with a smile.

She doesn't return it, "I made coffee. Is that okay?"

"That's fine." I say, even though I prefer she not drink it. I'd tell her, but she seems so jumpy and unsure of herself right now and I don't want to make her feel any more uncomfortable. I watch as she pours two mugs, carries them to the table and holds one out to me. My smile widens and I take it from her.

"Thank you, Callie."

She truly is a kind girl. The blanket she put over me two nights ago as well as her handing me the cup of coffee just now strengthens my belief that the 'tough-girl-who's-pissed-off-at-the-world' attitude is just an act. The concern she shows for Jude also adds to my argument.

Callie takes a seat at the table and I do the same. She plays with her cup, turning it slowly by the handle, "So," she finally says after a while, "When is, um, Bill coming?" She's trying so hard to not look nervous but the slight waver in her voice gives her away.

"He'll be here in a few hours," I reply, glancing quickly at the clock, "Lena is going to go into work a little late and you and Jude are going to go with her. You guys haven't taken the placement test yet but Lena pulled some strings so at least you won't be sitting in the house all day."

"Jude will be in the same school?"

"Yes, the middle school is connected to the high school so you might see him a few times during the day." She visibly relaxes at this and I see how the idea of separation from Jude can cause her such a great deal of anxiety. She drains the rest of her cup and moves to put it in the sink, "I'll be in the living room," she lets me now before she leaves the kitchen.

I strain my head a bit to see what Callie is up to. She walks over to the couch and takes a set next to Jude who is still fast asleep. She puts one hand on his back and the other comes up to her neck to play with a necklace she is wearing.

"Hey, Mom." I turn around to see Brandon walking in. He takes a seat beside me and I bring his head close so I can kiss him.

"Morning," I say, "You're up early."

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "I wanted a shower with hot water today." I laugh a bit at this. It's no secret that a war ensues every morning concerning control of the bathroom.

"Hey, B? Do me a favor and help Callie at school today. She'll probably need help finding her classes and what not."

"Sure," he says, "No problem. How long will they be here?"

That's a good question. I would _prefer_ the siblings stay here until something opened up for them, but ultimately this decision rests in the hands of the state, "I'm not sure right now. Mama and I will find out today when we meet with Bill."

Let's just hope things sway in the Jacob's favor.

* * *

**Callie**

I'm pacing around the perimeter of the backyard while Jude entertains himself by climbing a huge tree. Bill is in the kitchen with Stef and Lena. They suggested Jude and I come out here to get fresh air but I know it's just so they can talk about us without worrying about us overhearing.

It's been about fifteen minutes now and I'm starting to get anxious. I know whatever they tell us is going to be bad and I'd rather they come right out and say it rather than make us wait. I glance at the window so I can try to see what is going on. Bill keeps looking down at something, probably my file. He's speaking and Stef and Lena have these looks on their face. I know that look; I get it a lot.

It's pity.

"Callie! This tree is so cool!"

I turn around to look at Jude who is pretty high in the tree by now. He looks absolutely intrigued by what he's seeing. It's rare for us to be placed in a foster home that has a nice backyard or even one at all. This house is too good to be true which makes it more likely that we're going to get moved today.

I smile up at him, "Yeah buddy, it is. Be careful up there, okay?"

"Okay!"

I'm happy that with all that we've been through, Jude has been able to keep most of his innocence and hope. I've worked hard these past six years to make sure he stayed out of harms ways. For the most part I was able to do that. Sometimes I failed.

That was the worst.

"Callie? Jude?" I look up at the door to see Lena poking her head through, "Can you guys come in here please? There's some stuff we need to talk about."

My stomach clenches and I look up at Jude who has a similar expression of dread. I offer my hand to him to help him down. I don't let go while we walk towards the house.

"Everything is going to be okay," I say to him as we walk towards the house, "Don't worry about it." We walk into the kitchen and take a seat at the table across from Bill. Stef and Lena are standing and I don't know why but it makes me uneasy.

"First of all," Bill begins, "Callie, you can't run off like you did yesterday. Your parole―"

"You left Jude by himself with that man," I snap, "I was trying to protect him."

Bill puts a hand up, "I understand that but―"

"But nothing. I don't regret what I did."

Bill glances at Stef and Lena, as if to say _Do you see what I have to deal with?_ "Okay, let's just move on then. Stef and Lena have agreed to foster you and Jude until we find something permanent for you guys."

What?

I turn to look at the two women who haven't said anything yet, "Really?"

Stef smiles at me, "We want this to be your last way-station. It can be a few weeks, maybe months. We want you guys to be safe until that time comes."

Wow.

This is the complete opposite of what I thought would happen. I can practically feel Jude vibrating with happiness beside me. Stef talked a lot about keeping us safe but I didn't believe her. Why would I? Bill has been telling us the same thing since we first came into the system and look how well that turned out for us. Nonetheless I am grateful, more grateful than these two women will ever know.

"Thank you," I say sincerely to Stef and Lena, forcing myself to look at their eyes so that they know I mean it.

Lena's face lights up and she smiles, "You're welcome, Honey. If we're all done here, I'd like to take Callie and Jude with me to school?" She looks at Bill when she says this and he gives her the go ahead and he begins to pack up his things.

"I'm going to pull out that extra bed when I get back from work," Stef says as she reaches for her keys, "Jude, we'll set you up in Jesus' room. You'll just need to bear with us while we get you a bed―"

"He can have the one in the garage," I interrupt, waving my hand, "I'll be okay on the couch for now."

"Are you sure, Callie?"

"Mm-hm."

Stef smiles at me, a different kind of smile, and pats my shoulder before leading Bill to the door.

* * *

**Stef**

Captain Roberts hasn't said anything yet and it's already been two minutes of absolute silence. I knew she wouldn't be happy that I didn't tell her about Callie running off on me yesterday. I glance at the clock; we're nearing minute three.

"I don't even know where to begin with you." I almost jump when she finally starts speaking but I manage to keep it together, "Why the HELL did you not think to notify me when your charge went AWOL?!"

"Captain―"

"Save it!" she cuts me off tersely, eyes ablaze with anger, "I have headquarters up my ass, paperwork out the wazoo and CPS questioning my decision to get Callie placed in your home and you know what? I'm beginning to question my decision, too. I'm beginning to question whether or not you should even be her parole officer anymore!"

Panic seizes me when she says this, "Please don't reassign her," I plead, leaning forward in my chair, "I screwed up, I get it, but what that girl needs isn't your run of the mill behavior modification. You said it yourself: you assigned her to me because you knew I could handle it. You could have given her to any other guy in this place but you gave her to me. Captain, _please_."

Roberts eyes me for a moment, "You're too involved to be her parole officer, Stef."

"Too involved?" I repeat incredulously, "I _need_ to be involved if we want Callie to make any progress. Having her in my house just makes my job easier." I'm begging at this point and I don't care. Callie needs me. I know I can give her a better future, not some stranger who's just looking for a paycheck.

After what feels like an eternity, Roberts lets out a resigned sigh, "Fine. You can still be Callie's parole officer, but listen to me carefully, Foster. If ANYTHING happens like what happened yesterday…"

"Duly noted," I say, hands up in surrender, "Thank you, Captain. You won't regret this."

"I'd better not."

**I got a weave for prom. If you're African American, you know the hair struggle. So I got a weave to facilitate the process and Lord is it itchy and painful! This is the second time in my entire life I've ever gotten a weave and it's only staying in for five days because I'm getting box braids for the summer! Yes, getting on that Poetic Justice flow.**

**Thank you for all the support/encouragement; you guys are the bomb dot com. **

**Please review! I'm almost at 200! :D**

**-Liv**

**P.S.- Okay, yay or nay on the whole Ana storyline (Callie getting accused of stealing pills, Stef getting shot, etc.)?**


	15. Chapter 15

**Callie**

Lena had to stay behind at school for a meeting so we're all walking back to the house. Brandon is up front, Mariana and Jesus in the middle, and finally Jude and I picking up the rear. School was…exactly what I expected.

_I don't have to look up to know people are looking at me. My messed up face and haggard appearance is a red flag to these students who seem to be straight off of a movie-set. _

"…_and this is your English class."_

_I nearly walk into Brandon as we stop in front of a class room. Everything is so open here and intimate. Half of the classroom is clear glass windows and there are only a couple of desks. _

"_What's his name? My teacher, I mean."_

"_Timothy."_

_I wrinkle my nose, "Mr. Timothy?"_

_Brandon laughs and shakes his head, "No, just Timothy. He prefers for students to call him by his first name."_

_Oh god. What have I walked into? I hear some whispers behind us and I turn around to see a flock of girls who are shamelessly scrutinizing me. I shoot them my best glare and it has the desired effect; they scatter off as fast as their overpriced shoes allow. _

"_It'll get better," Brandon comments, watching the girls flee the scene._

I hope so.

We finally reach the house and Brandon opens the door with his keys. It's the first time I'm alone with these kids without their moms and I'm not sure what to do. I toss my backpack on the couch and Jude follows suit.

Jesus walks into the living room and makes himself comfortable on our makeshift bed with a bag of chips gripped in his hands. He flicks on the TV and holds out the bag to us, "Want some?" he asks, crumbs falling out of his mouth. Jude looks at me and back to Jesus before shrugging and plunging his hand into the bag. I shake my head and make a move for the kitchen. Mariana is leaning against the counter texting away. She briefly looks up as I enter and seeing that it's me returns her gaze to her phone.

"I'm going to move my clothes so you can put yours away," she says, eyes still glued to her screen.

"Thanks," I mumble. I take a bottle of water from the fridge and head to the backyard. I can imagine how this is hard on her; Brandon and Jesus, too. It must not be easy to suddenly be forced to share everything with two strangers. I glance at the window that looks into the living room and I see Jude sitting with Jesus, watching T.V. I wish I could be like him in that sense: open to new people and so trusting.

But I can't.

Not after what happened the last time I let myself be so vulnerable. That will never happen again. I open my water bottle and take a sip. That tree Jude was climbing sure is tall. I wonder how high I could get if I climbed it. Maybe I could touch a cloud.

Maybe I could reach heaven.

* * *

**Stef**

It takes me half an hour but I finally manage to get this bed put together and situated on the other side of Jesus' room. He's sitting at his desk, watching. He helped earlier, with the heavy duty labor, and now he's resigned himself to an observer.

"Do I really have to share my room with a ten year old?" he asks, a bit of whine in his voice.

"First of all, Jude is twelve," I answer, putting my hands on my hips, "Second of all, yes. Need I remind you, you were in the exact same situation not too long ago? Show some compassion." Jesus sighs and nods. I know he understands; he's just stubborn.

Lena walks into the room and nods her head in approval at the bed we've assembled, "Nice work you two," she comments, "Dinner is ready." Jesus doesn't need to be told twice and practically bolts for the kitchen.

I wrap my arms around Lena's shoulders, "Roberts tore me a new one today."

She lets out a puff of laughter, "Yes, I would imagine. What's the verdict?"

"They can stay," I answer with a smile.

"You're excited," Lena observes, bringing up a hand to push some hair out of my eyes.

I shrug. She's right, "I _am_ excited because those kids are finally getting the break they deserve."

"Okay," Lena says, a mischievous look on her face as she pulls away to head for the kitchen.

I roll my eyes, "What?"

"Nothing," she sing-songs as she disappears down the hallway, "Absolutely nothing."

* * *

**Callie**

I set about putting my clothes away in Mariana's room after dinner. She's sitting on her bed, pretending not to watch, but it's pretty obvious she is. I don't have a lot, so thankfully the whole process doesn't take very long. I close the last drawer and turn around to where Mariana is waiting. At this point, she makes no effort in hiding her obvious inspection.

"You know," she begins, "If you ever want to borrow some of my clothes, you can." I guess this is her idea of an olive branch.

"Uh, thanks," I say, "But I'm good."

She shrugs and tosses her hair over her shoulder before reaching for a magazine. I take that as my cue to leave. I peek into Jesus' room and seeing that Jude is alone, I enter.

"Hey, baby." I greet him.

He looks up from where he is cross legged on the bed, "Hey."

I take a seat at the edge of the bed and put my hand on his knee, "You good?"

Jude nods. He takes a look around the room, "I like it here." He declares definitively.

"Yeah, well, don't like it too much." I tell him, half joking and half serious. I kiss his head and wish him a goodnight before heading out of the room and down to the living room to get ready to go to sleep.

Once I'm lying down on my makeshift bed, I pull the blankets up over my shoulders and settle down. I turn to face the television which of course is off. I can see the time on the cable box shining in bright green. It's the one light thing in the completely dark room and my eyes can't look away. When I look at the shadows too long, my imagination gets the best of me and no good ever comes from that.

I close my eyes. The less time I have to dwell in my thoughts, the better.

* * *

**Stef**

It's funny. The first night this week I have the opportunity to have a decent night of sleep and I can't keep my eyes shut. I reach over to grab my phone from the night table so I can check the time.

1:26 AM

I put my phone back and roll over to face Lena who is sleeping without an issue. Lucky woman. I gently push back the covers so as not to disturb my girlfriend and get out of bed. She immediately snuggles up to my vacated pillow and I have to smile at the sight.

I decide to do a check on all the kids. First I peek into Brandon's room. He's sound asleep. As a new mother, it was always comforting to see his chest rise and fall when he was an infant and that feeling hasn't changed. I move on to Mariana's room. She's curled up on her side, eyelashes brushing against her cheeks. She has her phone in her hand and I shake my head to myself. I remove it from her grip and place it on her dresser before heading out of the room.

I move to Jesus' room next. He's splayed across his bed with his mouth slightly open. I chuckle quietly to myself at his position. Jude is quite the opposite: he's tucked neatly under the covers and looks like an absolute angel. I head out of the room and move towards the stairs.

One more kid to check on.

I'm quieter, if that's possible, because I know Callie is more alert and will wake up if I make too much noise. I pad into the living room and the moonlight allows me to see her form lying across the couch. She's shifting somewhat. It looks like she's trying to get comfortable…

No.

It looks like she's trying to get away from something. I step closer and kneel down. Callie's eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth is set in a frown. Her lips move noiselessly as her head thrashes from side to side.

She's having a nightmare.

**Sorry this is short :/ I'll update again Sunday, I promise you!**

**The overwhelming response was no Ana. I love how so many of you actually used the word "nay". So cute! This past Monday's episode was very funny and I wonder if the kids will eventually get busted. I'm stoked for next week's episode when Callie and Sophia meet. **

**Leave a review!**

**-Liv**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Italics denote a flashback**

**Callie **

"_Come on Callie…don't you love me? This is what people do when they love each other." He's too close and I can't get away. He smells bad, like he's been drinking or something. I strain to get out of his grip but he's too strong._

"_No, Liam―"_

_He forces his lips onto mine. The kiss is painful and messy. I shove him in the chest and his hand shoots to my throat. I can't breathe. I start to cough and gasp as I try to suck in more air._

"_Stop," he growls in a menacing tone, "I don't want to have to hurt you now." He moves the hand from my throat so that he can pin my hands above my head. With the other hand he begins to unbutton his pants._

_I scream._

* * *

**Stef**

Callie's face is screwed up as if she is in physical pain, and she probably is: all that twisting around can't feel good on her battered body. Her knees are clasped tightly together and her hands are coming up to fight at something that isn't there.

I put my hand flat on her forehead, "Wake up, Callie. Come on." She whimpers and her hands come up to pull at my wrist but I hold strong.

"Come on, Sweets, wake up." I'm trying to wake her up as quickly as possible while also trying not to startle her.

Callie lets out a whimper, "Stop!" she breathes out as she continues to thrash.

"You're safe, baby. Wake up."

Callie's eyes finally fly open and she lets out a gasp. Her eyes land on me and she scrambles off the couch and to the other side of the living room with quick albeit lethargic movements. Her chest is heaving with the deep breaths she is taking and sweat beads on her forehead. I stand up from my kneeling position on the ground and slowly move towards Callie. She backs up until she hits the wall and puts her hand out in front of her as if to keep me back. Her eyes are wide and hazy and I see the confusion in them.

"Callie," I say quietly when I'm a few feet from her, "You're in the living room, honey. You're safe, okay? You're safe." I will tell her this everyday if that's what it takes for her to finally believe me.

Her eyes dart from me to the front door as if waiting for some imaginary assailant to burst into the house any minute now. She brings up a hand quickly to swipe at her cheeks and I realize some tears have escaped her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, head angled towards the floor but I can still see the blush in her cheeks, "I-I didn't mean to."

My heart tears a bit, "No, no Sweets. Don't apologize. It was just a nightmare, Honey; it's not your fault."

I don't think she hears me because she mumbles another, "I'm sorry."

I think to myself for a moment before grabbing a blanket off the couch and holding my hand out, "Come here, Callie."

She looks up at me and her brown eyes are filled with absolute fear. God, she probably thinks I'm about to yell at her; maybe even hit her. I'm asking a lot of her right now, to blindly trust me, but I just want to help. I lower my hand and adjust the blanket in my arms, "I'm going outside to the front porch and I'd love to have you join me." I turn around and head for the front door. If she wants to, she'll follow me. If not…well, I'll have to figure something else out.

Once I'm outside, I take a seat on the porch swing. California can be sunny and warm but at night it's cool. There's a light breeze that feels nice against my skin. I wonder what Callie was dreaming about: it looked intense. I wonder how often dream like that happen to her.

A few minutes later, Callie comes outside and stands in front of me. Her lip is caught between her teeth and she's gripping the bottom of her shirt so tightly her knuckles are white. I pat the seat beside me.

"Come sit." She hesitates but does what I say. She sits as far from me as possible, crossing her legs so that she takes up the least amount of space. I scoot closer and wrap the blanket around her shoulders before allowing my hand to simply rest on her back.

She's shaking.

I don't know if she's cold or scared or both. Probably both.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask quietly, rubbing random patterns on her back. Callie shakes her head vehemently as this.

"Okay," I say, "We don't have to talk about it." I keep rubbing her back as I turn my gaze to the sky. The moon is full tonight, and bright. It's a beautiful sight.

"I'm sorry," Callie whispers for the umpteenth time that night.

I sigh, "Please look at me, Callie."

Her eyes slowly move up my face until they meet mine. They're glossy with tears and my heart breaks even more, "Callie, it's completely normal to have nightmares. I'm not going to get mad at you over them; no one in this house will. I just want you feel comfortable here."

Callie brings a hand up to rub her nose a bit before dropping it to her lap, "Do you know if I woke anyone up?"

"Everyone was asleep when I came down," I answer with a small smile, "Probably still are. We have some heavy sleepers living here."

"Why aren't you?" she asks, "Asleep, I mean."

I shrug, "Good question. Probably too much on my mind."

Callie fiddles with the edge of the blanket. She looks so tired, but she doesn't look ready to go to bed just yet. She's too tense.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about your nightmare? It could help."

"How?"

"Well, we could figure out what it means―"

"No, how do I talk about it?"

Oh, Callie.

She's looking up at me expectantly, searching my face for an answer. Poor baby. I pick up the other side of the blanket and wrap it around my shoulders, forcing us to get closer. I slip my hand around Callie's shoulders, wait for her to tense up and relax before gently forcing her to lean back against the seat. She's shaking even harder, if that's possible. I wish I knew what to do to make her feel better.

"Well," I finally say, "Let's start with if it was real or not. Was it something that happened before?"

Callie nods her head, "Yeah, it was real."

"Okay," I say, fingers squeezing her shoulder so that she remembers she's _here_, and not in her nightmare anymore "Who was in it?"

I can see her closing in on herself, "My foster brother."

"And what was happening?"

Callie looks at me helplessly, mouth opening and closing as she tries to form the words. She lets out a frustrated breath and stands up, allowing her side of the blanket to fall into a pile next to me.

"I have to go to school tomorrow," she informs me as if I don't know; "I have to go to bed."

I sigh in defeat and stand up as well, gathering the blanket into my arms, "Alright. Let's head inside." Callie leads the way and I follow, locking the door behind me. "Come to the kitchen first," I say before she gets to the couch, "You should take some painkillers."

"I'm fine," she says, but nonetheless follows me into the kitchen. She waits as I grab her some pills along with a glass of water. I hand them to her and she tosses the pills back before sipping at the water. She's breathing better at this point and she looks a lot more relaxed.

"Can you lift your shirt?" I ask, "I'd like to see how those bruises are healing."

Callie nearly drops the glass when I ask this. She sets it on the counter and takes a step back.

"No."

Her answer has a sense of finality to it that I can't argue.

"Okay," I say, putting my hands up in surrender, "Alright. Ready to go to bed?"

She eyes me for a moment before nodding and heading for the living room. I follow close behind and watch as she settles herself beneath the covers. I reach over to fix them a bit and she holds herself rigid until I am done.

I move back, "Goodnight, Callie. If you need me, please come get me. No matter what."

She waves her hand dismissively and turns over so that she faces the back of the couch. I have an overwhelming urge to kiss her forehead as if she were one of my own children. Sparing Callie one last glance, I head for the stairs so I can get back to bed. All of a sudden I'm exhausted. I crawl into bed, wrestle my pillow away from Lena and get comfortable.

I need to get Callie set up with her group therapy tomorrow. I wonder what Captain Roberts would say about making this more personalized. Callie's issues run deeper than she leads on; the nightmare I witnessed leads me to believe that.

Lena snuggles up next to me and lets out sigh in her sleep. I press my lips to her forehead and pull her close to me. This will just have to wait until tomorrow.

**I know I said I'd update Sunday but I couldn't wait! I had a stroke of inspiration and wrote like five chapters. I'm just nearing the end of Chapter 24, actually. I know some of you are gonna think "What? Chapter 24? Just upload them all!" I won't because often my chapters are just prototypes that I like to go back and change based on what I want to fix as well as what you guys want to see.**

**The main reason I wrote so many chapters ahead of time is because I start work on Monday and want to make sure I'm still updating on a regular schedule. Don't want to disappoint.**

**Please leave a review below!**

**-Liv**


	17. Chapter 17

**Callie**

I can't believe I let Stef see me like that last night.

I'm in the bathroom, attempting to run a comb through my hair as I go over the events from last night. My nightmares come and go without warning. My foster parents would never pay much attention to me when they occur, only if it disturbed their own sleep.

Then they would get mad.

I'm usually pretty good about calming myself down after they happen but last night was different. Stef just wouldn't leave me alone. I thought she would be angry at me for making so much noise in the middle of the night. Instead, she wanted to know what the nightmare was about and I don't know why. It doesn't matter. She'll never find out. If she did, I could get separated from Jude and that can't happen.

I give up on my curls which seem to not want to cooperate this morning and head downstairs to the kitchen. It's a flurry of activity and I'm not sure where to start. Stef is at the stove watching some eggs and Lena is taking out glasses. Mariana is bickering with Jesus over something stupid, I'm sure. Brandon is looking at some sheet music and tapping his fingers on the table. Jude is sitting, taking in the scene with intense curiosity. I grab a mug off the shelf and head for the coffee. I pour myself a cup and am about to sit down with it when the mug is plucked from my hands. I turn around to see who I need to yell at.

Stef.

"Thanks for pouring me a cup, Callie." She says with a wink before taking a large gulp of _my_ coffee.

"Wasn't for you…" I mumble and feel a tap on my knee. Jude is giving me the look, the 'don't-screw-this-up' look. I take a deep breath. Had this been earlier in the week, I probably wouldn't have dropped this, but Jude is here now and I have to take him into consideration. So I let it go and reach across the table for the orange juice instead.

"Listen up guys," Lena says, catching everyone's attention, "We have Callie's bed coming in today so Brandon, Jesus, some help please? Everyone meet me in the parking lot after school and I'll drive you guys home."

"Except for you, Callie," Stef interrupts, tapping the table, "You and I are going to go meet Dr. Kodema for your group so you'll come with me."

I don't like this. I would rather Jude stay with me. I don't _think_ Lena would do anything to him but you can never be completely sure. I don't have to look at Jude to know that he's feeling nervous about this, too. I reach under the table to take his hand and give it a squeeze. _It's okay_.

"Kelsey and I have to work on a project," Mariana interjects, waving her hand a bit.

Stef nods and takes a sip of _my_ coffee, "Be back before dinner please." She stands up and walks over to the sink to dump her dishes, "I gotta run. Callie, I'll see you at 3:00. Have a good day!" She gives Lena a quick peck on the cheek and disappears.

* * *

I'm ready to call it a day and it's only lunchtime. Today was the same as yesterday times two since I am here for the entire day instead of just part of it. People are still whispering behind my back and ignoring me when I face them. I don't think I can stand to be around these people for another second and veer from the courtyard and head for the music room.

I've wanted to come back ever since the first day Stef brought me here. I walk inside and am relieved to find it empty. I set my stuff down on a chair and walk over to the guitar I had been looking at a few days earlier. It's been a while since I've seen one of these or touched one for that matter. I take the instrument off its stand and take a seat so that I can settle it in my lap. Its weight is familiar and comforting. I run my fingers across the strings. The sound that fills the air is one I haven't heard in years.

"You play?"

I nearly drop the guitar on the floor and have to shoot my hands out to catch it. I whip around to see Brandon standing near the door, backpack slung over his shoulder.

"You snuck up on me," I say accusingly, eyes narrowed. I want him to leave. Of course, he doesn't take the hint and settles himself at a keyboard. He stares at me, waiting for an answer to his question.

"A little," I finally reply, "My mom, she taught me before she…" I trail off.

"Before she…?"

I eye him for a minute before nodding at the keyboard, "Do _you_ play?" I hope he takes the hint that wherever he wanted to go with this conversation is not going to happen.

Fortunately he does, "Yeah, I play the piano." He moved his fingers to the keys and began to play a light melody. He's good and it looks like he really knows what he's doing.

"I play the guitar, too." Brandon says as he continues to play, "I could teach you. Well, help you remember."

I mull over the offer in his head. He sounds nice and he hasn't done anything that's put up any red flags thus far, but then again Liam was the same way when I stayed with his family.

"I'll let you know," I finally say, "Thanks."

* * *

After school I wait on a bench near the parking lot with the Foster kids. I see Jude heading our way and I relax because he looks happy and unharmed. Jude is different and kids can be cruel, so I'm happy he hasn't had any bad run-ins yet.

"Hey, buddy," I say as soon as he's close enough, "How was school?"

"Good," he answers, taking a seat between me and Brandon, "We're reading this book. _A Wrinkle in_ something."

"_A Wrinkle in Time?_"

He nods his head with a smile, "Yeah, that's it."

"Hey, guys!" Lena is heading towards us now and everybody stands up. She unlocks the door as she walks along the path and Jesus immediately dives for the passenger seat leaving Brandon to climb in the back. At the same time, Stef pulls into the parking lot. She stops her car right behind Lena's and lowers the window.

"Ready, Callie?" I look down at Jude who is nervously biting his lip. I know he doesn't want me to go without him, and quite frankly neither do I.

Lena comes up next to him and puts her hand on his back, "It's alright, Jude," she says in a placid voice, "Callie will be home before you know it."

I shift a little at the way she says _home_, because the Foster's house is anything but. I put my hands on Jude's shoulders so that he is forced to look at me, "Hey," I say, ducking my head down a bit, "It's going to be fine. I just need to go talk to someone and then I'll be back at the house and we can read that book together okay? Just an hour or two, tops."

Jude nods and I reluctantly drop my hands so that I can get into Stef's car. I close the door, put on my seatbelt and lean back in my seat. The car doesn't move and I turn to Stef to see what the hold-up is. She's smiling at me weirdly.

"What?" I ask defensively, crossing my arms.

Her smile gets bigger, "You're such a good sister, Callie."

I get a weird feeling in my stomach. No one has said that to me before except for my mom. The past six years have been dedicated to making sure Jude had the best life possible, considering the circumstances. If he was happy, I was happy. If he was hurt, I hurt even worse. I've always wanted a sign or an acknowledgement to let me know that I was doing _something_ right and here is someone telling me in the most direct way.

I look up at Stef's blue eyes, "I am?" I ask quietly. I hate how unsure I sound, but I really want to know.

"You are." She reaches out her hand to pat my knee and I force myself to hold still even though every fiber of my being is screaming for me to move away from this woman who's already seen too much of me already.

"Thanks, Stef."

She squeezes my knee one last time before shifting the car into drive and making her way out of the parking lot.

**This is more of just a filler chapter. Callie will let her walls down, I assure you. I wrote it out and I'm going back and nitpicking. I started work this week and today's only the third day and it seems like it's been a lifetime. So. Tired. **

**Poor Jude in this week's episode :( I wonder how this issue will be resolved.**

**Thank you for all the support and kind words. They keep me motivated :) **

**Please review!**

**-Liv**


	18. Chapter 18

**Stef**

"So," I say after we've driven for a few minutes in silence, "I have a question for you. One of the terms of your parole was that you had to attend group therapy. I spoke to Bill and my captain and if you would like, we could make them individual sessions instead of a group session."

"I'm not crazy." Callie says immediately.

I shake my head, "I never said you were, Sweets. I just want to make sure you are getting what you need. I'm leaving the choice up to you."

"I want to do group sessions."

What a surprise.

If it were up to me, I would put Callie into individual therapy. I'm sure the main reason she would prefer a group is because it will be easier for her to fly under the radar and get away with not sharing. Ultimately, I don't have final word. It's a combination of what the state wants, what Bill recommends and what Captain Roberts tells me to do.

"We can do that," I finally say, "But that doesn't mean I expect anything less than if you were doing one-to-one therapy. You need to talk to Dr. Kodema or you won't get anything out of therapy."

Callie mumbles something under her breath, "What was that?" I ask, taking my eyes off the road for a second to look at her. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her legs are crossed as well. She's slouched down in her seat and her head is against the window. Classic defensive-teenager stance.

"I said this is _dumb_," she repeats in a louder tone, her tone deliberate and hostile.

I count to three in my head and take a deep breath, "It's okay to feel that way, Callie, but like I said, this is to benefit _you_."

"Whatever."

I sigh, "Can we please lose the attitude?" The answer I get in return is a deadly glare. I shake my head and tighten my grip on the wheel. Fighting with her isn't worth the aggravation. She wants to see me lose my cool and I won't give her the satisfaction, because then I'll just be as good as every other foster parent she's ever lived with.

* * *

An hour and a half later and we're back home. Callie barely said two words to Dr. Kodema and I have a feeling this is what her therapy sessions will be like. We enter the house and I see Brandon and Jesus working on homework.

"Where's Jude?" Callie asks immediately.

Brandon gestures his head, "Kitchen." She walks away, no doubt to go find him and check to see if he's okay. She doesn't really trust us, of this I am certain.

"Oh, the bed is here." Brandon adds, using his pencil to point to the box on the living room floor.

I set my bag down on the table, "I'll probably need some help with that…"

"I can help!" Jesus volunteers in an instant, all but chucking his school books behind him as he stands up.

I shake my head with a smile. He'd be up to do just about anything that wasn't homework, "Fine, you can help. But when we're done we're doing that math homework together, okay?"

He flashes me a thumbs up and heads off to the garage to grab the tool bag.

* * *

**Lena (a bit earlier…)**

I'm putting the finishing touches on dinner when Jude strolls into the kitchen. He's looking around, taking in the scene as if it were his first time in here. His eyes shift to me and he looks as though he wants to say something, but can't form the words.

"What's up, Buddy?" I ask as I set a dish of vegetables on the table.

He shifts on his feet, "Well, I was wondering if you had any chores for me."

I furrow my eyebrows, "Chores?"

"Yeah," he says, taking a tentative step closer, "Usually, if a foster family isn't going to send us away right away, they give us chores and stuff."

Wow.

I mean, I understand having kids help out around the house but right off the bat? We just got Jude a bed yesterday for crying out loud and he's worried about _chores_? I haven't spoken in a while and I can see that it's making Jude anxious, "You know what I could use help with? The utensils." I reach into the drawer behind me and grab all the silverware we need and set it in a pile in front of Jude. He reached out and begins to place utensils for each person in their correct spot.

"So are you and Stef married?" Jude asks. His eyes are focused on the task at hand.

I tilt my head a bit, "No, not legally. I guess we're married in our hearts."

He looks up at me, "That's basically the same thing, right?"

Oh.

This boy is after my heart.

"Basically." I say, my entire body beaming with my smile. It's a beautiful thing to see: acceptance. At first I thought Callie was homophobic, but I quickly realized she was just looking for a fight. Clearly, my relationship with Stef isn't an issue for her and now I know 100% that it isn't for Jude, either.

Jude finishes setting the silverware just as Callie walks into the kitchen. His face lights up and he practically runs over to her, "You're back!" He sounds so relieved, as if there was a good chance Stef wouldn't bring her back. There's a tug at my heart as I think of this.

"Course I'm back," Callie smiles and nudges her brother's shoulder, "What are you up to?"

"Helping set the table," Jude turns around to face me, "Do you need any more help, Lena?"

I shake my head, "No thanks, Bud. I'll call you guys in a few minutes for dinner."

Jude turns back to his sister, "Can we start my book now?"

"Sure," Callie agrees and they disappear upstairs.

* * *

**Callie**

After dinner I pass by the kitchen and see Stef drying dishes. I shift awkwardly in the doorway. This far into a foster home, Jude and I would have chores by now and its weird that Stef and Lena haven't assigned us any. I feel like I should be doing something, instead of just lounging around. I want to seem useful; not just like a waste of space. It would make them more likely to keep us. I wage an internal battle with myself for a few minutes before finally pushing myself to enter the kitchen.

"Do you need any help?" I ask, trying not to appear as unsure of myself as I am.

Stef looks up from what she is doing somewhat surprised, "Sure, that'd be great." She points to a dishtowel before getting back to work. I walk over and pick it up. I take a mug from the dish rack and begin to dry it off.

"How are you?" Stef asks, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, "How are you settling in?"

I shrug, "Okay, I guess." I don't know why she constantly asks how I am, or how I'm feeling. It's unfamiliar and unsettling. I feel like she is planning something and I'm just not seeing it.

"You're good in Mariana's room?" she asks next.

"Yeah."

I've never been good at small talk. God, I wouldn't even be offering her help if I didn't want to get in her good graces for Jude's sake. We finish the rest of the dishes in silence and I start to leave but Stef stops me.

"Come sit for a minute, Callie." She says, patting the table with her hand. I take a seat across from her and look up at her expectantly, "I know seeing Dr. Kodema isn't the most ideal thing for you―"

"It's fine," I cut her off. I recall the conversation we hand in the car and I inwardly cringe at the harsh remarks I made about seeing Dr. Kodema, "Group therapy will be good for me. Sorry I called it dumb."

Stef gives me a look and is quiet for a moment before finally saying, "You don't…" she pauses, "You don't have to just say what you think I want to hear. You can have your own thoughts and opinions. You won't be penalized for being your own person." I can't help but snort at this.

Yeah right.

Being my own person has landed me in more trouble than I could count. Flying under the radar has been my best bet at survival and here Stef is telling me to 'be my own person.'

"Callie, I'm serious." Stef says, blue eyes piercing mine, "We have a lot of work ahead of us and we won't get anywhere if―"

"What kind of work?"

She presses her lips together. I know it annoys her when I just cut her off like that. Stef takes a breath, "You need to prove that you are a productive member of society. Remember that first day we met? I told you that your behavior will decide whether or not you go back to Chula Vista. We need to prove that you are trying your absolute hardest."

I put my elbows on the table and drop my head into my hands, "I am." I whisper. And that's the truth. If only Stef knew how hard I was trying. It's so difficult, though. Not to mention exhausting. Thinking about my every move before I make it as well as how what I say and do will affect Jude…

It's so much.

I feel on a hand on my back and I startle a bit. I didn't even hear Stef stand up to come sit beside me. I glance at her quickly and she is looking at me with such soft, kind eyes that I want nothing more than to throw my arms around her and never let go.

But I can't.

"I know you're trying, Sweets," she acknowledges in a soft tone and I almost lose it at the pet name, "I see the progress you're making. You're doing so well. Just keep it up and when the time comes to write your progress report, you'll pass with flying colors. Okay?" She ducks her head a bit and smiles, waiting for me to respond. I nod, because I don't trust myself to talk right now. I've never had someone have so much faith in me since my mom and it's an empowering feeling. Stef's hand on my back and her kind eyes and smile make me feel like I can move mountains. At this moment, I want to do nothing more than prove to her I can be good and that I don't ever have to go back to juvie.

"Okay."

**Guys. Remember that fire I mentioned a few chapters back? Ever since then, my water has either been freakishly hot or freakishly cold. Right now it's freakishly cold and it's been three days! I haven't taken a proper shower in THREE DAYS. I need hot water like, yesterday.**

**On a happier note, I'm pumped for The Fosters tomorrow and want to see how Jude is doing. I finished my first week of camp with only sunburned lips, a cut on my toe and scratches on my arm so I'd say we had a good week.**

**I have an idea as to where this story will go. Callie WILL tell Stef about Liam, soon. The road I'm going to take after that is something I've been thinking of for a while.**

**Please review!**

**-Liv **


	19. Chapter 19

**Callie**

After talking to Stef, I head upstairs to begin getting ready for bed. I truly am going to try. I want a good progress report for Jude's sake, since my actions seem to always reflect badly on him when they shouldn't. I almost make it to the bathroom when Brandon pokes his head out of his room.

"Wait," he says, "Come in here for a second."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "Why?"

"I want to give you something."

"What?"

"Well, if you came into my room you'd find out."

I don't like this.

His behavior is reminding me too much of Liam. He's different, obviously. He's a goody two-shoes who's worst offense was probably not closing the toothpaste when he was done. Still, it's like muscle memory. I can't shake that uneasy feeling. Throwing all caution to the wind, I follow Brandon into his room. It's what I expected: cluttered with random boy stuff.

"Wait there," he tells me and disappears behind a curtain of beads that hang in a doorway. He's out of sight for a minute before he returns with a guitar in his hand. He holds it out to me, "Here."

I look around somewhat confused, "What?"

"For you. You know, so you can practice."

I shake my head, "I don't want to keep your guitar from you."

He grins, "Well, it's not _my_ guitar. It's yours."

My eyes widen and my mouth drops open. He can't seriously be giving me his guitar. He doesn't even _know_ me. I literally just got moved from the couch into an actual bed and he wants to give me a gift?

"I…I can't take that."

Brandon's eyebrows furrow and he looks genuinely confused, "Why not?"

"It's _yours_," I say matter-of-factly, "You can't just…I can't."

"Sure you can," he says and holds out the guitar even closer, "Please? Look, you'd be doing me a favor. I barely even use this thing anymore because I'm always practicing piano. It's just gathering dust here in my room. You can play it."

"I told you I forgot," I remind him.

Brandon shrugs, "Eh. You'll pick it up again." He thrusts it at me so fast that I have no choice but to take it from him. I would be lying if I said just holding it didn't make me feel better, because it did.

"I'm gonna shower now," Brandon announces, "So if you could just…" He makes a scooting motion with his hand.

I smile and begin to back out of the room, "Thanks for letting me borrow this."

"Not a loner!" He calls after me as I leave.

* * *

**Stef**

I feel like my conversation with Callie was a turning point of sorts. Today is Saturday as well as Callie's first group therapy session. I am going to take her while Lena stays home and preps Jude for the Anchor Beach placement test he and his sister were able to put off for some time. From what Lena gathered from their teachers, Callie won't have a problem with it but Jude just might. That's expected: five different schools in the past six years…it's a miracle these kids haven't been held back.

I'm sitting in the kitchen, lost in my thoughts, when Lena strolls in. Of course she'd be the first one up―the kids never get up early when they can help it. She circles the table to come to my side and greet me with a kiss. She tastes like toothpaste.

"Morning," she says before moving across the kitchen to grab the tea kettle so she can fill it up, "You're taking Callie to group?"

"Yup. You're gonna tutor Jude?"

"Yup."

Lena continues to fix her tea and I turn my attention to figuring out breakfast. Pretty soon, Jesus will come into the kitchen very much like the French storming the Bastille and God forbid there isn't food on the table; he might just burst a blood vessel. I shuffle over to the fridge and start pulling out the ingredients I need to make pancakes. Tea in hand, Lena settles down on a stool and watched me work for a bit.

"I want Jude to do well on his test," she tells me as she brings her mug up to her mouth, "He's such a good kid. So sweet…"

I grin, "And you said _I _was the one getting attached."

She sticks her tounge out at me and laughs.

* * *

**Callie**

The only feeling I could liken to the car ride to see Dr. Kodema is going to the doctors. Nobody wants to be pricked and prodded and when you go to the doctor, that's exactly what's going to happen. When you're sitting in the waiting room, you know that what happens next is going to be uncomfortable and there's no getting out of it.

That's how I feel about group.

I know I told myself I was going to make an effort but I don't know if I can stay true to my word. What do I have to do to get out of this? I glance at Stef from the corner of my eye. Her eyes are trained on the road in front of her and she's humming quietly along to the radio as if we were going to a freaking picnic instead of this dreaded therapy session. All too soon, we pull up in front of the building and Stef shuts the car off. She unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out, probably expecting me to do the same.

But I can't.

It's like my feet have been glued to the floor of the car. I don't want to go as far as to say I'm scared, but I'm definitely out of my element. For six years I've been told to shut up and all of a sudden I'm expected to just blab my sob story of a life to some lady I barely know in front of a group of kids whose lives are as fucked up as mine if not more?

"Callie?"

Stef has opened my door and she's waiting for me to get out of the car. I look up at her. She told me I could talk to her, no matter what, and I'm wondering about the validity of this statement. I chew on my lip for a bit before finally whispering a timorous, "I'm nervous."

She kneels down and takes my hands in hers, "Look at me, Sweets." I do, "Of course you're nervous. I don't expect you to be comfortable with this on day one. It's gonna take some getting used to. We just have to try, right?"

Stef said we and it makes me feel not so lonely.

"We can try." I say and the smile that appears on her face is so full of pure, unbridled joy. She squeezes my hands and helps me get out of the car.

* * *

"My name is Marcus. I'm fourteen. I've been in foster care for…three years? No wait, four."

We're sitting in a circle, going around and introducing ourselves. So far, every introduction I've heard has been depressing. Not that there's anything _good_ about the system, I just thought that at least someone would have a heartfelt tale of finding a perfect family. I don't know if it's comforting to hear that people are in the same boat as me or just more depressing.

"Thank you for that, Marcus," I hear Dr. Kodema saying, "Callie?"

Oh god it's my turn.

"Um, I'm Callie," I say, crossing my legs, "I'm sixteen years old. I've been in the system for six years." I look at Dr. Kodema because I don't know what else to say.

"Okay," she nods her head encouragingly, "Why are you in the system?"

I shift uncomfortably and look at my hands, "My dad, um…my dad killed my mom." I mumble really fast. I can hear the inhales of shock, see the heads shaking in sympathy from my peripheral vision.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dr. Kodema says in this ridiculous voice and I just want to hit her, "And what has your experience been with the foster system?"

"Bad."

"How?"

"Just bad." She stares at me and I stare right back. No way am I about to delve into the woes of my past in front of a bunch of strangers. She finally gives up on me and moves onto some other girl.

Just thirty more minutes.

* * *

**Lena**

"So you carry the two and then you get…what?"

Jude looks at the math problem for a minute before tentatively looking up at me, "Is it sixty-four?"

I grin, "Correct! Good job, bud."

He smiles widely and I can tell that he is pleased with himself. It was a bit of a slow start. Jude was so afraid of getting a wrong answer that he refused to look at me let alone ask for help. We've been working for close to forty-five minutes now and he's beginning to get the hang of it.

"Let's take a break," I say, standing up from the dining room table, "You've been working really hard." I walk towards the kitchen, peeking over my shoulder to make sure Jude is following me. I pour two glasses of lemonade and put one in front of Jude.

"How do you like Anchor Beach so far?" I ask before taking a sip of my drink.

"It's really pretty," Jude answers, "I like how the beach is really close."

I nod, "Me too. Can I tell you a something?" Jude's eyes widen a bit and he gestures for me to continue.

"A big reason I applied for a job at the school was for the beach."

He grins, "Really?"

"Yes," I reply, resting my head in my hand, "It makes work not seem like work sometimes."

Jude finally picks up his glass, "I haven't been to the beach in a long time."

"How long?"

"Since before my mom died."

That was over six years ago.

I purse my lips, "We'll just have to make a trip of it, huh?"

He smiles.

* * *

**Stef**

I'm in my car waiting for Callie to get out of group. While she was there, I managed to run to the station and pick up some paperwork I needed to get done. She was so nervous at the beginning, but I'm glad she was able to admit that to me. It's a big step for her. I see the door open and Callie is the first one out. I'm not surprised by this. I open the passenger door for her as soon as she is close enough and she climbs in.

"How was it?"

"Fine."

"What'd you guys talk about?"

"Foster care."

I see she wasn't going to make this easy for me, "Did the other kids seem nice?"

"Mm hm."

I turn so that I can look at her. She's shaking her foot and her eyes keep darting to the building as though Dr. Kodema will come out any minute and drag her back in there. I can tell she wants to leave so I start the car and click my seatbelt into place.

"We're trying, right?" I ask.

It takes a moment, but Callie finally meets my eyes and gives me a hint of a smile, "Yeah," she says, "We're trying."

* * *

**Callie**

By the time we get to the house, I'm exhausted and want to just relax. I head to Mariana's room and of course she's in there on her laptop. She looks up momentarily before returning her gaze to whatever website she's on.

"Hey," she greets.

"Hey."

"Where'd you go again?"

I take a seat on my bed, "Group."

Mariana pulls a face, "Oh, God. That must have been _awful_."

I laugh a little, "It wasn't too bad." I rummage around in my backpack to find the book I was assigned for Timothy's class. _The Handmaid's Tale: _the plot is pretty weird but I find myself enjoying it.

"What are you reading?"

Wow. Mariana likes to _talk_.

"It's called _The Handmaid's Tale_," I answer her, holding the book so that she could see the cover, "It's basically about sex-slaves―"

"_What_?" Mariana sputters. Next thing I know, she's on my bed taking the book from me and turning it over so that she can read the summary on the back, "You can't be serious."

I shrug, "I am."

"I wish my English class read books like this," she said wistfully, handing the book back to me, "We're reading the Odyssey right now and it blows."

"I read it," I tell her, "I didn't think it was too bad."

Mariana's eyes light up, "Really? Do you think you could help me with my homework?" Her hands are clasped together and she looks so hopeful.

I nod, "Yeah. I mean it's been a while since I read it but I remember the main ideas."

Mariana squeals gleefully, "Great! I'll go get my books." She heads for the stairs so that she can grab her backpack from the living room. It's odd having someone besides Jude ask for my help and be so happy to receive it. She's only a year younger than me but Mariana gives me an idea of what it's like to have a little sister.

That will never happen.

I open my book to pick up my reading until Mariana returns with her homework.

"_At moments like this I envy those who have found a safe haven in which to bestow their hearts; or perhaps I envy them for having a heart to bestow. I often feel that I myself am without one, and possess in its stead merely a heart shaped stone."_

* * *

**Stef**

I finally walk into the house after finishing up my work at the station. Lena is getting started on dinner as per usual. She turns when she hears me entering the kitchen.

"Hey," she says, "How was work?"

"Good," I reply, "Same old, same old. How did it go with Jude?"

Lena's face lights up and she gestures for me to sit next to her at the table, "He's _amazing_ Stef," she says to me in an awestruck voice, "There were some concepts he didn't understand but as soon as he did…" She lets out a breath, "He's such a smart boy! I just wish he had more time. He can do the work, Stef. He _can_. He just needs time to practice and absorb what he's learning."

If I didn't know any better, I would have though Lena was talking about one of our own children from the way she was carrying on about Jude. She's beaming and the pride in her eyes and in her posture cannot be denied. I take one of her hands and bring it to my lips to kiss it before simply holding it.

"That's amazing, Love," I say, "I can see that Jude is a very bright boy, just like his sister. What are those two up to?"

Lena turned her head to look out the backyard window, "Well Jesus is giving Jude a skateboard lesson."

I raise my eyebrow and walk towards the window to get a better look. Sure enough, Jude is standing on Jesus' skateboard while our son supervises from the sidelines. At least I _think_ it's Jude. He has so much padding on its hard to tell.

"He looks like the Michelin Man," I quip, "Overkill much?"

Lena rolls her eyes and gets up to join me at the window, "Making sure he's safe isn't overkill."

"Captain Roberts would appreciate your input when she orders the new Kelvar vests for next year."

Lena whacks me on the arm and goes back to prepping dinner, "Callie and Mariana are upstairs."

"Doing what?"

She shrugs, "I haven't heard any yelling so I guess it's possible for them to coexist peacefully."

I smirk, "I'll go check on them," I say, "For all you know, Mariana has Callie hog tied in the closet with some scrunchies and put a pore strip on her mouth to keep her quiet." Lena laughs and shakes her head at me.

I head upstairs and walk towards the girls' room. I peek my head in the door to see what they are up to while at the same time trying to stay out of sight. The girls are both sitting on Mariana's bed, hunched over a notebook. Mariana has a pen in her hand that she's tapping against her thigh.

"Wait," she says, "So dramatic irony is when we know something the characters don't know…right?"

"Right."

"And an example of that is…how we know the beggar is really Odysseus but no one else does?"

Callie nods, "Exactly."

Mariana smiles, "This makes a lot more sense now. Thank you _so _much. You're like an English guru. And I'm not just hyperbolizing." She gives a prideful look at her new found vocabulary.

Callie barks out a laugh at this, "Cool it, Edgar Allen Poe. We still have three questions left."

I back out of the door way to leave them be. My heart is melting. I'm so glad this arrangement is working out. I know my kids are older now, but I can't help but worry that they'll feel put out when we bring foster kids into the house. It's like when a family gets a new baby and the older kid gets jealous. I worry for Brandon, who received two new siblings with very little notice and was forced to adapt. I worry for Jesus and Mariana, who Lena and I worked tirelessly with to make sure they felt like they were part of this family no matter what and that nothing could ever change that.

It feels so comfortable, to have Jesus teaching Jude how to ride a skateboard and for Callie to help Mariana with her homework. Now, more than before, I have to keep reminding myself in my head:

Temporary. Temporary. Temporary.

But…

What if it wasn't?

* * *

After getting off the phone with Brandon who is at Mike's for the weekend, I head to the backyard to find Callie who is sitting on the deck strumming away at Brandon's guitar. So she _does_ know how to play. Interesting. I turn over the cell phone in my hand before heading outside. Callie's playing comes to an abrupt stop and although she doesn't turn around, I know she heard. I take a seat next to her and she moves the guitar off to the side.

I hold out the iPhone, "Here." She looks at me, confused, but takes the phone anyway, "It's yours," I tell her, "Lena and I put you on our plan. You have our numbers, of course, as well as Brandon, Jesus, and Mariana's. Keep it charged and on you at all times so if we ever need to reach you, we can."

Callie presses the home button on the phone and watches it light up to tell her the time. She looks up at me, "Thank you."

"No problem," I say. I look at the guitar, "You know how to play?"

Callie's eyes follow my gaze, "A little," she answers, "I forgot some of what she taught me."

"And who's that?" I ask, genuinely curious.

She looks down at the grass, "My mom." Suddenly Callie shoots to her feet, "I should go put this inside," she says, holding up the phone. She takes the guitar as well and disappears into the house.

And so I've fitted another piece of the Callie Jacob puzzle.

**Work has been CRAZY! I work with kids with Autism and it's fun and rewarding but takes its toll on you. I have family friends visiting from Canada! They're from Haiti but after the earthquake they had to relocate. Montreal was a good choice because they speak French there (just like they do in Haiti).**

**Please review! I promise this story is going to pick up. I actually combined two chapters into one just to make up for how long it's been since I updated.**

**Till next time,**

**-Liv**

**P.S.-It's 2:30PM and I'm still in my pajamas…**

**P.P.S.-The Handmaid's Tale is an amazing book that I absolutely love!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Callie**

The weekend passes and Monday rolls around. I'm awaken not by the alarm I set on my new phone, but from the pain radiating from my entire body. In addition to my sore muscles, I have a headache that makes it hard for me to keep my eyes open and I can't even _think_ about trying to stand up. I feel like shit. On top of all of that, I'm freezing… Oh no.

I'm sick.

My experience with being sick while in the foster system has been less than pleasant. After the first time it happened, I learned my lesson and have hidden any illness I may have from my foster parents. It's a lot of work and tends to be some long, dreadful couple of days, but I manage to make it every time. I grab my phone from the night table and press the home button to see what time it is. Big mistake. It's so bright it physically pains my eyes to look at it and I drop it to the floor. I don't have the energy to pick it up so I just lay there, eyes closed, willing my body to work properly.

I don't hear any noise in the kitchen so it's safe to assume I woke up pretty early and no one else is awake, especially Stef and Lena. I figure I can go back to sleep. Maybe a few minutes of rest are what I will need to get through the day.

* * *

**Stef**

"Let's go, guys! Breakfast is ready!"

Another hectic morning in the Foster's household. Everyone is running about, trying to gather themselves for school. Jude is downstairs and seated at the table, ready to go as per usual (such a sweetheart). Brandon is making his way into the kitchen and I assume the thundering I hear on the stairs is Jesus.

"Medication," Lena says as soon as Jesus is within eyesight. He rolls his eyes but walks over to grab the bottle from the basket. Mariana comes down next, hair curled to perfection. She takes a seat and begins to reach for her breakfast. I notice that Callie hasn't come down yet.

Odd.

Usually she and Jude are the first one's down. They're always ready to go and we never have to call their name twice.

"Where's Callie?" I ask Mariana. Jude's head snaps up and he looks at me and then Mariana.

"Asleep," she answers, pouring herself some orange juice, "Her alarm was literally going off _forever_ and she didn't even move." Lena shares a look with me and I'm about to go check on Callie when Jude stands up and blocks my path.

"I'll get her," he volunteers. To others, this would look like him just trying to be helpful. But I know better. He's worried. I'm not sure if he's so worried about Callie so much as he is worried about how Lena and I will react to her waking up late.

"It's okay, buddy," I say as reassuringly as possible and smile, "I'll get her. Finish your breakfast, okay?"

Jude studies me for a moment, "I can get her," he repeats, "I'll be fast."

I put my hands on Jude's shoulders and look into his eyes, "Jude, honestly it's okay. I'll go check on her, I don't mind. Finish eating breakfast before the heathens wolf it all down." I say with a wink.

"I take offense to that!" Jesus objects holding up a piece of bacon.

I guide a reluctant Jude back to his seat and give Lena a look that says 'keep him calm' before heading for the stairs. I wonder why Callie is so tired. Another nightmare? I didn't hear anything last night and neither did Mariana because she definitely would have said something. I knock lightly on girls' door before entering. I immediately see Callie. She is curled into a ball, facing away from me. I get closer and take a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Callie," I say gently. I put a hand on her back. The heat radiating from her sets off flags in my head. I press my hand to her forehead and sure enough she's warm, most likely due to a fever.

I begin to run my fingers through her hair, "Wake up, baby." I murmur.

It takes a minute, but she eventually begins to stir. Eyes still closed, she turns around to face me. She blinks a few times before finally opening her eyes. Her gaze settles on me and for a moment she looks confused. In a split-second, confusion is replaced with panic and she shoots up.

"Oh my God!" she exclaims, starting to get up, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to oversleep. I'll be ready in five minutes, I _swear_!"

I put take her hands in mine to stop her, "Callie, it's okay. You're sick, sweetheart."

"No I'm not," she refutes immediately.

I sigh, "You are. You have a fever."

"No I don't."

I narrow my eyes at her and Callie narrows hers right back. Such a teenager.

"Fine," I say, standing up, "I'm going to go get a thermometer. If it says anything above 99, you stay home."

"Fine." She agrees with a shrug. I leave to go to the kids' bathroom to grab the ear thermometer we keep in there. I begin to rummage through the cabinets and drawers. Of course Callie would be stubborn about being sick. Clearly I'm right; I hope that once she sees the thermometer reading she'll be more willing to agree with me. After a while I finally find it and head back to the girls room.

Oh wow.

Callie is dressed for school, backpack next to her on the bed. Although she is dressed for the day, her hair is disheveled and she looks absolutely exhausted. I take a seat next to her and power the thermometer on.

"I'm going to put this in your ear, alright?" I warn her ahead of time. She nods that she understands. I push her hair behind her ear and she moves away from me somewhat. "Hold still," I murmur. I bring one hand up to hold her cheek while I use the other to put the thermometer in her ear. I wait until I hear a beep and remove it to look at the screen.

"Just what I thought," I say, handing Callie the thermometer so she can see for herself, "102.3. You, my dear, are sick." I try not to sound so gleeful about it but I can barely contain myself because I was right.

Callie looks at the reading for herself, mouth set in a frown. She hands the thermometer back to me, "I want to go to school."

"Uh, uh." I say, shaking my head, "Anything above 99 and you stay home, that's what I said. Change back into your pajamas, Sweets. I'm going to run downstairs and get some medication and supplies for you and then we're going to hang out for the rest of the day."

She tilts her head, "Why aren't you going to work?"

I give her a weird look, "Because you're _sick_." I answer as if it's obvious (and it should be).

"Don't miss work," she tells me, "I can stay home by myself."

"Callie―"

"Really," she continues, "I've stayed home by myself while I was sick plenty of times. I'll be okay."

I think she's trying to make me feel better but she's doing the exact opposite. I can't imagine leaving a child to care for themselves while sick. That's crazy. God…what the hell is wrong with this system?

I take Callie's face in my hands, "I'm going to stay home because you're sick and because I want you to get better. I _want_ to take care of you, Honey. Please let me?" I run my thumb over her cheek and she lets out a little exhale.

"I just…" she begins to whisper, "I don't want you to waste your time with me."

This girl is truly after my heart.

I pull her in towards me and wrap my arm around her. She is hesitant at first but soon relaxes. I think the fever is tiring her out. I move my lips right next to her ear, "You could never waste my time, do you hear me? You're so important, Callie."

She shudders in my arms and I just hold her for a minute. I want her to feel my words, not just hear them. Without thinking, I press a kiss to the crown of her head, "Change into some more comfortable clothes and get back in bed. I'll be right back, okay?"

Callie nods and I move back so that she can get changed. I leave the room and head back down to the kitchen.

* * *

**Callie**

I wait in bed for Stef to come back. I changed into some flannel pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt because I'm still pretty cold. I don't get why she wants to stay home with me so badly when she could be at work or doing anything that's better than staying home with a sick kid. It felt so nice to have her running her fingers through my hair and hugging me.

I wonder if it's a biological response to want your mom when you're sick. That could just be me, but I feel like it's natural to crave the closeness and the attention. There are certain times, like when I'm sick or getting hit or worse when I really miss my mom. She always knew how to make me feel better.

Stef walks into the room and takes a seat on the bed, "Everyone is off to school," she tells me, "Even Jude who really didn't want to leave."

I smile. I love and hate that Jude worries about me so much. It's nice to have someone so dedicated to me, but at the same time I don't want him to obsess about my well being 24/7. He's just a kid, after all.

"Is he okay?" I'm sure he is but I still ask out of habit.

"He's fine," Stef assures me, "A little worried but he'll be okay." She pulls the blankets off of me and holds her hand out to me, "Come one. We're gonna relocate." I take her hand and she helps me stand up. She leads me to the master bedroom.

"Climb in," she instructs, pulling back the blankets on her bed. I do and she disappears into her bathroom. I've never really been in here before. It's nice and smells like a mix of Stef and Lena. Stef comes back with a bottle of Tylenol and a water bottle.

"For your fever," she says as she hands them to me. I take the medication and watch as she settles in next to me with her laptop, "You need to sleep now. I'll wake you up soon so you can eat."

I nod, suddenly aware of how tired I am. I pull the blankets over my body and rest my head on the pillows. From the scent wafting off of them, I infer that I am on Stef's side of the bed and she is on Lena's. I watch as Stef types away at her keyboard. I can't really see what she's doing. I wonder if it's paper work for her job. I'm starting to feel guilty again that she stayed home with me.

Eyes never leaving the screen, Stef reaches out a hand so than she can run her fingers through my hair, "Stop thinking so much and go to sleep, Hon."

So I do.

**Sorry this is short. I'll update again on Sunday.**

**Work has been tiring and I also have friends visiting from Montreal plus my grandfather is flying in tomorrow. And on top of THAT, my cousins flew in from Switzerland. It's been a hectic week going places with all of them and I'm so tired.**

**This past Monday's The Fosters episode…all I can say is the damn unicorn.**

**Ciao for now,**

**Liv**


	21. Chapter 21

**Stef**

"_How's Callie doing?"_

Lena called me to see how we are holding up at the home front.

"She's good," I reply, "Resting." She had been going back and forth between sleeping and watching me work on my laptop. "I'm going to wake her up soon and see if I can get her to eat something. How is Jude?"

I hear Lena sigh through the line, _"He's been to my office twice already asking if he could call Callie. I told him that she is fine with you but he insists on calling. Those two…they care about each other so much. It's a beautiful relationship, don't get me wrong, but they have to learn to think about themselves instead of each other."_

"I hear you," I agree, nodding my head, "All they had for six years was each other. It's hard to snap out of that."

"_Yeah."_

I feel Callie begin to shift beside me, "I'm gonna go, Babe. I think Callie is waking up and I want to see if she'll eat something. Love you."

"_Love you, too. Bye."_

"Bye."

I hit the end button on the phone and put it on the night table before turning to look at Callie. Her eyebrows are knitted together in a worried sort of fashion and she's whimpering. She's having another nightmare and her fever is probably making it a lot worse than it already is.

I slip beneath the covers and gather Callie into my arms and of course she fights against me. She pushes against my chest and her hand comes up and scratches my neck. I reel back for a moment but don't go too far. I pull her hands down between us and hold them.

"No!" she mumbles, jerking herself away from me, "Liam, no!"

I hold her as close as possible and begin to whisper into her ear, "You're not there, Callie. You're here, with me. Wake up, Baby. You're safe; no one is going to hurt you."

Tears slip down Callie's cheeks, "Please…"

"Wake up, Baby." She blinks her eyes open with a start. She looks at me briefly, somewhat confused. What has happened registers to her and she tries to pull away from me but I don't let her.

"Just breathe," I tell her, bringing up a hand to rub the back of her neck. Callie takes a shaky breath and I can feel her trying to calm herself down. She closes her eyes and listens to my whispers. I continue telling her to breathe and rubbing her neck until she isn't breathing so hard.

"Sorry," Callie whispers and again, tries to pull away. Again, I don't let her.

"What were you dreaming about?" I ask, pushing some sweaty strands of hair out of Callie's eyes.

She looks at me for a moment, mouth opening, but she closes it and looks away, "I…I can't."

"Can't what?"

Callie looks at me for a moment, eyes narrowing and I'm not sure why. She reaches out a hand and touches my neck. When she brings it back, I see a few drops of blood. Her eyes widen in horror and she gasps. She jerks herself out of my arms and this time I can't stop her. She stumbles out of the bed and dashes to the other side of the room. I bring a hand up to my neck and look at it. From the small amount of blood on my hand, I can tell it's nothing bad and will probably stop bleeding by itself in less than a minute. I get out of the bed and put my hands up as I walk towards Callie.

"I'm sorry!" she says frantically, flattening herself against the wall as I get closer, "I'm so sorry! I didn't…I wasn't…"

"It was just an accident," I tell her, "You were asleep. I know you didn't mean it―"

Callie shakes her head, "I promise it won't happen again, Stef. Please don't send me back to juvie! Please?"

She's so worked up right now; she's not hearing me. Not sure what to do, I take a seat on the rug and cross my legs. I place my hands flat on my knees. "Are you listening to me, Callie? Can you hear me?" She gives me a weird look and slowly nods her head. I might look ridiculous to her right now but I need her to know that I am not a threat.

"Good," I say softly, "Callie, you are _not_ going back to juvie. You scratched me by accident. I don't blame you and I'm not mad at you. Do you understand?"

She eyes me, as if she's waiting for me to change my mind. She doesn't respond, rather walks across the room and into the bathroom. I don't get up from where I am because I honestly feel so lost. Lena's the one with a PhD in child psychology. I hear Callie rummaging around in the bathroom. What is she doing?

She finally comes back out and sits in front of me, using the heels of her feet as a seat. She has a tube of Neosporin in her hand. She twists the cap off and squeezes some of the gel onto her finger. Callie studies me for a moment. Her eyes flick to my hands briefly before she leans forward and gently applies the Neosporin to the scratch on my neck. She puts her other hand on my shoulder to steady herself.

"So it doesn't get infected," she murmurs as she continues to spread the gel over the length of the scratch. I hold still and watch her face as she does this. She's focused entirely on the task at hand. The look on her face is one I've seen her give Jude many times.

It's whole-hearted concern.

She finishes and sits back.

"Are you okay?" Callie asks, eyes conveying the worry she still feels..

I smile and lean foward to wipe the remaining tears from her cheek. She jerks away a bit but holds still as she realizes I just want to clean her face. When I'm done, I place a kiss on her cheek.

"I'm perfect, Sweets. Thank you. Up for some food?"

* * *

**Lena**

I hear a knock at my office door and I have a pretty good guess of who it is, "Come in!" I call. It's Jude, and I'm not surprised. I fold my arms on my desk and look up at him, "What's up, bud?"

"I have to go home," he tells me matter-of-factly.

I raise an eyebrow, "May I ask why?"

He shifts his feet, "I think I caught whatever Callie has."

I am trying so hard not to smile but the little charade Jude is putting on makes that difficult, "Come here." He walks closer to my desk. I stand up and lean across so I can feel his forehead and cheeks, "You don't feel warm." I tell him.

He shrugs, "That happens sometimes. I could just walk to the house―"

"Take a seat Jude," I say pointing to one of the two chairs that stand opposite my desk. I walk around and take a seat in the other chair, "Buddy, I _promise_ you Callie is just fine. Stef is taking really good care of her. In fact, she called me and told me that Callie was resting and that they were going to eat lunch soon. Speaking of which, don't you have lunch right now?"

Jude nods and looks down, "I'm not really hungry." He tells me.

"Too worried about your sister?"

"Yeah."

I put a hand on his knee, "What do you think is going to happen?"

Jude shrugs, "I don't know…foster parents don't like when we get sick because it's a lot of work and we can't help out or anything. They get mad."

"We're not mad at Callie for being sick," I assure Jude, "It happens to everyone. We want her to get better just as much as you do. It's our job to make sure she gets better, okay?"

Jude looks up at me, "Promise you're not mad?" he asks quietly.

"Promise. Are you gonna have lunch now?"

He looks at me and looks away before shyly asking, "Could I eat in here with you?"

I use a finger to lift his chin so he can see the smile on my face, "I would love nothing more."

* * *

**Callie**

I nibble on the corner of the grilled cheese Stef made me and watch as she washes the dishes from breakfast. I can't believe I hurt her in the middle of my stupid nightmare. I thought for sure that would be the end for me but she's being really nice about it. In fact, she's being really nice about everything. It feels so good to have someone taking care of me instead of it being the other way around. I finish eating and push the plate aside to drink some water. Stef swoops down and grabs the plate without a word.

Such a mom.

Stef finishes up with the dishes and shuts off the faucet. She wipes her hands on a dish towel before taking a seat next to me.

"How are you feeling now?" She asks as she presses her hand to my forehead.

"More human," I reply. I gesture at her neck, "You?"

She smiles at me, "Like a million bucks." I begin to sip at my water again and Stef drums her fingers on the counter. I feel like she wants to say something and is searching for the right words. Finally, after a minute of silence, she turns to face me and opens her mouth.

"So, who's Liam?"

**I'm sorry, this chapter is short too but I have very clear ideas as to where I want chapters to end.**

**I had my graduation party yesterday which was fun. Today my family is coming over so we can celebrate my uncle's birthday. It's a bit rainy outside and I wanted to use my pool but oh well. You take what you get.**

**I need to go do laundry. I only get two shirts for work and I use them five days a week. Ugh.**

**-Liv**

**P.S.- It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again…(I'm watching this move right now)**


End file.
